Encounter Random?
by jade-fae
Summary: Roll for a random encounter as Harry and company hit the road. New enemies appear to strike down our heroes, but they have to learn, things never go according to plan when Harry Potter is involved. The journey that began with 'Powers that be' and sailed through with 'Wild Waves, Wicked Women' continues, HERE!
1. Prologue

Encounter, random?  
Prologue

…

The bar was situated on the waterfront, past the docks where the sewage came out. The stench of decay and befoulment hung like a wet, heavy cloak. A putrid mist swallowing everything in rank and vile.

Despite this, the Dented Noggin wasn't a bad place, for a barely standing shack with more holes than swiss cheese, more rats too. But the patrons were a stalwart bunch, had to be, weren't no room for sissies in the cutthroat and common thug professions.

"Oy! Where's my beer!" The bald-headed hoodlum yelled from a table with three legs and a top that had once been a wagon wheel.

"Up your ass!" the bartender shouted back, wiping a filthy rusted tankard before putting it back on a precariously tilting shelf.

The crowd was heavy for a Thursday. The local economy had seen a sudden influx of capitol, some of which making its way into less seemly hands that had promptly taken it to the bar.

This was much to the advantage of the trio of uglies hiding in a dim lit corner at the back. Two were women, though only if you used the term very generously. One had hair like tangled straw, a long, crooked nose and more warts than should reasonably be possible on one face.

The other was dark haired and looked like nothing less than a wretched old hag. You could be forgiven for missing either of them for their third drew most of the attention which was quickly averted anywhere else.

He was a hulking nine-foot giant of a man. No hair on his head, only a series of crisscrossing scars which was a theme that played out over his entire massive body. Even one eye, the left one, had a savage looking gash running across the milky white orb.

These weren't locals, none of the regular patrons recognized them, and this normally would have drawn every manner of attention. Strangely, it did not. Occasionally someone would glance over at the big one then just as quickly look away. There was something about them that made one not want to notice them.

"Dammit all Ironfield, why do your spells always make my head itch?" griped the blond one, angrily scratching at her brittle straw hair.

"I'm sorry captain," said the giant, without any movement of his lips.

"We sure this friend of yours can find us Kumbra?" the blonde asked the hag.

"I wouldn't call her a friend," said the hag, "and you needn't worry. I told her exactly where we'd be, and how to find us."

She gently nudged the black candle at the center of the table which dropped a small spark from the gently glowing ball at the end of the wick.

"Wish she'd hurry up already."

"Feeling a little exposed Captain Fox?"

The ugly blonde glared at the smirking hag. The illusion that hid their rapturous beauty still translated their expressions perfectly. Thus was the skill of the one called Ironfield.

"You broke me out of a prison cell, and for that I am grateful. But, if this little game lands me back in that cell, I will kill you before I get there."

The Fox was deathly serious but Kumbra just chuckled, "No need to be so dramatic. She shouldn't be much longer."

And not half an hour later a woman in red armor with a decidedly draconic theme strode through the doors. She surveyed the rabble before spotting the black candle and shoving her way to the table.

"Well, you're looking good Kumbra," she greeted the hag as she took the open seat.

"Altera, still hiding behind your little helmet," said the sorceress.

"Who's hiding?" the armored woman countered, a dangerous edge to her tone.

"Ladies, please," said Ironfield.

The two women turned their noses at each other and the man at the table stifled a sigh.

"The master is not pleased with you," said Altera. "Causing such a ruckus, leaving witnesses. You drawing attention to yourself draws attention to him."

"It was a minor setback," Kumbra growled. "I'll deal with it."

"No, I'll deal with it," said Altera, handing Kumbra a small scroll with an ornate seal.

Kumbra swiftly broke the seal and scanned the contents. Her scowl deepened, a frightful sort of look on her altered face.

"I see." The amount of bile she injected into the two simple words was astonishing.

The armored woman smirked, "Thought you might."

"Captain, we will need to collect your ship."

"Good luck with that," said The Fox. "I'd be surprised if they didn't have a round the clock guard on it."

"Minor detail." The sorceress waved it off, "And just how were you planning to get the 'cargo' to this rendezvous?"

"You're not the only one with minions" said the dragon woman. "But I'll probably want to hire some guards too. Roads are dangerous. People could get hurt, or worse."

"Just be sure it's not you that gets hurt," said Kumbra with a darkly hopeful look.

"Aw, and I thought you didn't care."

The hag rolled her eyes and stood, "We're done here."

Blowing out her candle and stuffing it in her bag the trio made to leave but Altera held them back, "Give me this one," she said, indicating the disguised Ironfield. "I can use his magic."

Kumbra looked at her 'compatriot', then at the wizard, "Do as you wish."


	2. Chapter 01

Encounter, random?  
Chapter 01

…

"I'm bored!"

"You have no idea how much I love when you get all dramatic like this."

The two warlocks laughed when Merle childishly stuck out her tongue. The cat girl's antics were the most entertaining thing they'd seen all week. Sad really.

They'd considered themselves fortunate to have arrived at Lexusport, blessed by the monumental payday they'd received. After a week of nothing to do, the feel good had worn off. It was the off season is what it was. The last caravans had already left and any local work for people of their talents had dried up before they'd arrived.

Peace, it was all well and good for the common folk, but for a mercenary it was a slow descent into tedium.

Merle, having the shortest attention span and the least to do, had cracked first.

"You think Vargas and Ron would let me train with them?" she wondered aloud.

"You want to get spanked with the stick?" teased Sorsha.

"No, that's your thing," she shot back.

"I cannot see how you would enjoy that," Hermione opined.

"It's all a matter of who's holding the stick," Sorsha explained, giving her young protégé something to think about, something naughty.

"Where's Harry?"

"How should I know?"

"You usually keep track of your toys." The cat girl grinned.

"Only when I want to play with them," said the warlock.

"He said he and Mowgli were going to cat around the back alleys," said Hermione.

"I could do that!" the cat girl exclaimed.

"Not like their doing it."

Having learned to ride animals, Harry had used this to expand his shape changing repertoire. No faster way to become familiar with a shape than to get behind the wheel and take it for a spin.

He hadn't added anymore animals to his menagerie, yet. As it turns out, alley cats do not play well with others, or appreciate large owls.

"It's finally happened," Merle wailed, "no one loves me anymore. Oh, woe is Merle."

"My goodness you are just full of it today."

"I'm bored!"

"Am I interrupting?"

The three mercenaries looked up to find a roguish woman with short black hair and dark eyes looking at them with a half grin turning her lips.

"Entertain me," Merle ordered.

The warlocks stared at their feline companion, but the other woman just laughed, "You must be the 'kitty' Captain Flynn mentioned. Charmed."

The three perked up at the mention of Flynn, "You come by way of the captain?" Sorsha inquired.

"He did recommend you, eh, sort of."

"Sort of?" asked Hermione.

"There may have been some mention of 'crazy lunatics' but I figured that was just his way of being nice. Sailors are like that sometimes."

Hermione didn't find the excuse convincing and openly pouted. Sorsha just chuckled and Merle grinned, "He really did like us."

"May I sit?"

Sorsha waved to the empty chair and the new woman joined them, "So, what business has you inquiring after us."

"I work for a wealthy eccentric. He recently purchased a large quantity of goods and I am left to transport them up the northern coast road."

"How much are you transporting exactly?" asked Sorsha.

"Four wagons. It's a small caravan but the price on most of it is quite high. Normally I'd take a small handful of guards but, there are rumors circulating that leave me feeling overcautious."

"Rumors?"

"Strange sightings, ill omens, all the usual stuff I'd normally ignore. But about a week back I heard from a source about a village he'd traveled through. The place was burnt out like someone had set it on fire. Strangely though, no bodies."

"You mean, no one was hurt?" asked Hermione hopefully.

"I mean there was no one there at all, alive or dead."

"Suspicious," Merle sang.

"Normally I'd consider two or three guards enough for such a small run but given what it's worth, and what I'm being paid, I feel I can afford to be generous.

"So, you in?"

The three mercenaries traded looks, "What's the pay?" said Sorsha.

"Twenty each, up front, twenty more when we reach our destination."

"And what is our destination?" asked Hermione.

The woman pulled a bit of paper from the pocket of the leather vest she wore and rolled back the sleeves of her billowing shirt before unfolding the map and laying it across the table.

"Alright, here we are, Lexusport. We'll be taking the north road, through here, up the coast road and just here, a few miles from Lost Angels."

"That's a little out of the way," Sorsha observed. "Wouldn't the high north road be quicker? It's almost a straight path to Lost Angels."

"Normally you'd be right, but the high north road is closed. Has been all month."

"Closed, why?" said Hermione.

"Who went to war this time?" asked Merle.

"The lions and the bears."

Sorsha and Merle groaned, "Again."

"Who?" asked the not local girl.

"Garen Leonus and Walter Ursing are the heads of their respective families and have been at war with each other on and off for longer than I've been alive," Sorsha explained. "They close the road so the army can use it."

"Even in the late autumn like we are now their trying to maneuver before winter hits and they have to stop," said the other woman.

"Won't that affect us as well?" Hermione suddenly thought.

"Hopefully we can get to Lost Angels before the weather turns. Obviously, haste is essential so, I ask again, you in?"

There was no reason not to, they did need the work. "We'll need to talk to the others, but I think you can count on it."

"Excellent," the woman said excitedly.

"By the way," said Sorsha, "I don't think I caught your name."

The woman looked confused, then embarrassed, "So sorry," she said. "You can call me Alera."

…

The moon shone bright on the docks of Lexusport. A lone sea bird called out in the night, his nocturnal chatter echoing over the sound of the gentle rolling waves and the creak of resting ships.

A pair of young paladins stood guard before one such ship. A famous ship. Her ship. It was a dull duty, long and late and entirely pointless in their opinions.

Wasn't the infamous Fox locked up awaiting her execution? Weren't her crew all dead, killed by the mercenaries that had brought in The Fox? Wasn't this just a complete waste of time?

It was night time. Night time was for sleeping, and other bed related activities, but mostly sleeping. That was what they wanted to be doing, sleeping. They wanted it so bad, that without realizing it they began to do it, soundly, standing up.

"Shameful isn't it, falling asleep at their posts," Kumbra mused, giving the two bewitched men a gentle push, which sent them off the dock and into the water.

Captain Fox looked at the sorceress grimly but made no comment. She detested pointless murder, but the other woman clearly had no issue with it, and she was in no position to protest. She wasn't the boss anymore.

"We should go. Someone's bound to have heard that."

The Feral Vixen bobbed quietly in the water and The Fox couldn't help feeling a little better seeing her ship intact, "Going to be tricky getting her out of here with just the two of us."

"Really?"

"Don't know how we're gonna get those sails down. Gonna make an awful lot of noise."

"Uh huh."

Turning to glare at the sorceress, Vixen found her rummaging around in her bag while blatantly ignoring the task at hand, "Were you planning to help or am I supposed to do this myself?" she snapped.

Nonplussed, Kumbra found what she was looking for and withdrew a large scroll from her bag, "You know what your problem is? Limited thinking."

Marching up to the ship she plastered the scroll to the side of the vessel and began to chant. Before her very eyes, Vixen watched her beloved ship shrink till it sat in the water, no larger than a child's toy sail boat.

"See." Reaching over the dock Kumbra scooped up the ship and handed it to the stunned piratess, "Come along. We've a lot of distance to cover before sunrise."

Insensate, the famous female captain trailed after the evil sorceress. Just what had she gotten herself into?


	3. Chapter 02

Encounter, random?  
Chapter 02

…

The morning air was brisk with the late autumn chill as they trudged through the streets of Lexusport. Gooseflesh rose along bare skin, leaving those with less appropriate wardrobes huddling together as the barely conscious stumbled down the road, heedless of the temperature. Ron in particular was dragging heavily. "Why do we have to be up so early," he groaned.

"You shouldn't have stayed up so late," said Harry through a yawn.

"Not my fault," the ginger grumbled, glaring at the back of a certain shaved head.

"Sexy fun time not all you'd hoped it would be?"

"Too much of a good thing," he said. "Never thought I'd say that."

"Live and learn," said Harry with a rueful smile.

Yawning and groaning the group made its way toward the merchant's guild where they were to meet their employer, "Hey Harry, you think this is the direction 'he' wants us to go?"

Harry shrugged, "As good as any other, far as I can tell." He'd not seen nor heard from their Dungeon Master since their heart to heart in the field. After everything he'd said, he knew the dwarf would be back, just probably not till he was directed.

It was a bit worrisome knowing for fact there was some greater power playing chess with their lives. He'd felt that a bit with Dumbledore when he'd revealed everything after the debacle at the Department of Mysteries. This was different though. Dumbledore was just a man. He could guess at his motives, even if he couldn't understand them. What he was dealing with now was something far greater. Their motives Harry couldn't even begin to guess at.

"If he wants us to go somewhere, he'll tell us."

"Like Daggerhold ya mean." Harry smiled at his friend. He'd not told either Ron or Hermione about his meetings with the swarthy dwarf, but Ron somehow had figured it out anyway. If Hermione hadn't been so crabby, she might have as well but at least she was better now. Still squishy though, but in a good way.

"There they are!"

Four wagons sat parked outside the merchant guild house being loaded by a group of short, squat, vaguely humanoid constructs. Their odd proportions, stilted movements and well varnished siding made it obvious even to the uninitiated that these were no living things, at least in the classical sense. A single man stood supervising them as they went about their work while two others sat nearby watching.

"Does anyone else smell fish?" asked Merle, sniffing the air excitedly.

"Kraken actually," said Alera, appearing from behind one of the wagons. "Glad you could all make it."

"Yeah, yeah, wouldn't miss it," Ron yawned.

Alera chuckled at Ron's enthusiasm, "Shouldn't be too long and we'll get going."

While they waited, Alera went around and greeted every member of the group. She stopped a bit longer on Harry, just do to sheer numbers. "Well aren't you just the cutest!"

"Aw thanks, so are you," said Mr. Hopperfield, though only Harry could hear him.

Snickering at the rabbit, Alera looked at him oddly, "Did I say something funny?"

"Not you, him," said Harry.

Her eyes went wide at the implication, "You can understand them?" Harry nodded. "My, my, Captain Flynn never mentioned that."

"I'd guess he was probably stuck on me pulling lightning out of my ass."

The dark-skinned woman laughed at his vulgarity, "Just for that, you get to ride up front with me," she said before going to see to the wagons.

"Hear that Mr. Hopperfield, front seat."

"V.I.P.!" said the rabbit.

The sun was just cresting the horizon when the little caravan pulled out of Lexusport. Alera drove the lead wagon with a squashy badger on the seat next to her. Harry and Merle sat directly behind with Mr. Hopperfield squashed in the cat girls over affectionate embrace.

"It ain't easy bein me."

Once the sun chased away the morning chill the weather became quite warm for late autumn and the leaves blazed on the trees in glorious red and gold. People chatted amicably, or in Ron's case, snored loudly. And despite being on the road, Hermione took every opportunity to sneak off with her sacrificial bitch. Everyone was snickering the first day. By the second they were just rolling their eyes and sighing, the humor had faded.

Sorsha tried getting Harry's attention but unlike Hermione, he just didn't feel comfortable doing it so openly. Maybe things would have been different if not for 'that', but instead of succumbing to her entreaties, he'd volunteered for first watch, summoned a pair of wolves, then shifted to join them.

Sorsha was pouting the next morning, very pointedly. Every effort was made to show him she was pouting, and it was his fault she was pouting, and he'd better do something, or she was going to keep pouting.

It was childish and silly, and he refused to acknowledge it no matter how far she pushed out her lip. By lunch time, as Hermione dragged Ron off for her hourly nookie, Sorsha was pouting for real.

"What's her problem?" Alera asked, joining Merle and Harry at the back of the wagon.

"She's mad at Harry," said Merle smirking.

"Oh?"

"She's upset I'm not dragging her off into the woods," Harry elaborated.

"Ah. Is this going to be a problem?"

Harry glanced over at the warlock who was pretending not to eavesdrop, "No" said Harry. "She'll behave, or she'll get a spanking and not the kind she likes," he said overloud.

The warlock turned her nose up defiantly which did nothing to hide the color in her cheeks.

"Well, so long as that's settled," Alera chuckled. "Harry, how do you feel about driving for a while?"

"Me?"

"Why not?"

"Uh, well I don't know how."

"It's not hard. I'll teach you."

So, he learned to drive horses. Merle, who already knew, sat next to him and supervised. This left Alera sitting in back, her feet propped on an uncomplaining badger while she tuned a small rounded guitar.

"You know I used to make a living off this," she said, adjusting a string and plucking it again.

"Why'd you stop?" Harry asked.

"My sister tracked me down and decided it was time I got a real job."

Harry didn't miss the hint of bitterness in her tone and she said nothing more till her guitar was tuned and she began to play.

Merle bobbed along in her seat and ever Mr. Hopperfield was tapping his feet in time.

"So hard to find time for this anymore," she said absently. "Always traveling, always working. Give me a hearth and a song and I'll be content."

"It really is the simple things," Harry agreed. Having grown up around some of the most materialistic people, he knew no amount of money could buy happiness. Dudley being a perfect example.

Dudley'd had everything he ever wanted since the day he was born yet it was never enough. He always wanted more. It was like there was a bottomless hole inside him and he constantly tried to fill that hole with things, which only succeeded in making it bigger.

Come day three the weather had turned, and a cool wind blew dingy gray clouds across the sky. By lunch it had started to rain, not hard just a cold drizzle that chilled everything it touched. Merle hid back in the wagon with Alera and Harry's menagerie. Even Hedwig and the fairies had abandoned him to the comfort of the wagon.

Harry wasn't too put out. He pulled up his hood and carried on like a proper, stoic Englishman.

The rain had died off by evening, but it resumed early the next morning with a vengeance. Conversation was sparse and breaks became short. Ron enjoyed this because it meant Hermione couldn't drag him into the woods. Hermione did not appreciate this and glared balefully at the dismally dripping sky.

They slept in the wagons that night. Harry stood guard as an owl along with Hedwig for the first watch. The horses hadn't liked the wolves, despite Harry assuring them they'd come to no harm.

Some time after midnight a large vulture perched on the branch next to him. He and Mowgli shared a nod before Harry fluttered down to the wagon and snuggled up next to Merle and his terrestrial pets.

With morning came more rain. No one spoke as they set out, the dismal, wet and gray leaving the most chipper among them melancholy. Hermione looked grumpy and Harry thought Sorsha looked a little fidgety, but he hadn't time to check on either of them. The weather was encouraging haste.

The chill was becoming bitter. The cold rain could become snow at any time and none of them relished the idea of being caught out in a blizzard. Harry was maybe less concerned than the others. With his shrunken tower stuffed safely in his bag, if bad weather did hit, they'd at least have somewhere safe to wait it out.

He spent most of the day grooming his pets, and when that was done, Merle. The little brush he was using didn't work quickly over the much larger feline humanoid but they'd no shortage of time and the attention greatly improved her disposition.

The rain had begun to let up as evening approached when Merle caught the hint of something on the air. Mowgli bounded up to their wagon a moment later, sniffing the air as a human before shifting into a vulture and trying again.

"Smoke," he said. "Woodsmoke. Too much."

"What's he saying?" asked Alera, who was driving the wagon.

"Trouble, maybe," he said. "We'll go take a look. Hedwig."

Tossing his owl into the air he followed with Mowgli and the fairies a moment later. They hadn't gone more than a mile when they found the source of the smoke scent.

The rain had kept it from being visible at a distance yet not entirely squelched the smoldering. Twenty blackened buildings, appearing deserted from their vantage point. Dropping in for a closer inspection only confirmed this. The buildings smoked, and black lines in the ground bisected many of the houses but as for signs of life, none. Neither corpse nor survivor.

Returning to the caravan they reported their findings.

"It has to be recent," said Sorsha. "With this rain that smoldering should have stopped already otherwise."

The rain had at last ceased, but the clouds remained. If anything, they had grown heavier, more ominous, threatening a wicked downpour, or worse.

"If there's a roof left on any of them it'll be good cover for the night," said Alera. "And it'll give us some defense if whatever it was is still around."

"We can handle a firebreather," said Sorsha confidently, throwing an arm around her fellow warlock.

"We can?"

Alera nodded, ignoring Hermione's uncertainty, and ordered the caravan into the burned-out village.

"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed when they broke the tree line and got their first look.

Harry was stunned as well. It looked a lot different at ground level. The collection of smoldering boxes seen from above were magically transformed into homes and businesses. Real places, once full of real people.

"Where do you think they all got to?" asked Ron, clearly on the same wavelength as Harry.

"I don't know," said Harry, "but I don't like it."

The crumbled, blackened buildings felt off, too close. Harry had never been claustrophobic but in that moment, he felt boxed in, trapped. He didn't like it and the feeling relayed to his tag along's.

Hedwig sat agitated on his shoulder, shifting from one foot to another. Francis, normally so sedentary, squirmed in his pack, strapped across Harry's back. The fairies were the most telling though, perfectly silent, their glow dimmed lower than he'd ever seen.

"Check anything still standing," Alera ordered, drawing the caravan to a halt. "I don't like the look of that sky. Let's move it people."

The guards instinctively grouped up before spreading out to investigate. It was not just Harry who felt the creeping dread. Mowgli looked around like a skittish cat, ready to jump at any second.

Hedwig remained perched on Harry's shoulder, turning nervously this way and that. Her agitation feeding into his own.

"Don't like it," said Mowgli suddenly.

"None of us do," said Harry, but the jungle boy shook his head.

"Is not right," he said. "Look, smell, not right."

He understood the sense of wrongness, but he felt he was missing something in the younger druids' words. Or it could just be he needed to expand his vocabulary.

A shrill scream split the air and their hearts attempted to leap up their throats. Once they'd returned to their chests the two boys ran to investigate and found Ron being attacked by someone they didn't recognize. The attacker was being held at bay by Ron's shield, an effort that required both hands, leaving him unable to draw his sword.

Harry gave the unknown attacker a solid crack with his staff, knocking them prone, "You alright."

"Bloody bastard just came outta nowhere," he said, clearly shaken.

"That you we heard scream?"

Before he could deny it, their assailant was back on his feet and lunging at them. Ron smacked him aside with his shield, right into another concussing blow of Harry's staff. He dropped again, but this time he was followed by the paw of a massive bear that caved in his chest.

But he still kept moving.

"Ron, look at his eyes." They were pale, almost milky white. The sort of eyes one would normally associate with the blind. Dead eyes.

"What the bloody hell is going on here Harry?" The panic in his tone was plainly evident, even if Harry hadn't been feeling it himself.

"Zombies!" The cry was accompanied by a pair of bodies crashing to the ground, followed by a very unhappy cat girl, "We've got an undead problem."

And it was about to get worse. Several of the buildings around them suddenly flickered and vanished, revealing huddled crowds packed close like sardines in a can. They stared with dead white eyes, springing to life the moment the illusion vanished and surging to the attack.

"Shit!" Drawing his sword Ron prepared to engage but Merle pulled them back.

"This way! Hurry!"

Chasing after the cat girl they found the others in similar straights, surrounded by moaning, dead eyed attackers. Mowgli barreled through the crowd like a battering ram, the others following in his wake.

Vargas smashed a couple zombies aside just in time to step out of the bears way. Ron jumped in next to the big man and Harry handed his staff off to Merle and slid off his pack before a quick shift got him back into the fight.

His perspective changed as a wolf. The slight scent of decay was apparent now, just beneath the smell of smoke. That must have been why they'd missed them earlier. The smoke was masking the scent. Clever. Too clever, he thought as he tore through a dead man's leg. It was obviously a trap, the illusion that hid them was evidence of that, but who, and why.

It was hard to think as he savaged zombies beneath the swords of Vargas and Ron, but it was about to get much harder.

"Fall back!"

The words rang in his ears and it took a moment for them to register over the blood pulsing like war drums in his head. He had just hopped back out of reach of flailing hands when the temperature suddenly spiked. Fire poured down like water and Harry wolf looked up to find his two favorite girls (don't tell Merle) laying fiery vengeance on the rapidly shrinking undead crowd.

This appeared to do the trick. While a few who stumbled and flailed their direction were thrown back by Ron and Vargas, being engulfed in flame seemed to short out what limited cognitive ability they had.

A few minutes and there was nothing left that could move. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the last of the warlock's flames died out.

"Alright, what the hell was that?" demanded Sorsha.

"A setup," said Harry. "Someone was waiting for us."

"But who? Also, can we get down now?" said Hermione.

While Vargas went to catch Sorsha, Ron just stood there like he was thinking about it.

"Ron." Shaking his head, Harry gestured for Hermione to jump. Reluctantly, she did so, and was caught well before she hit the ground.

"Thank you, Harry," she said, giving him a quick peck then throwing a scowl at Ron.

"Mine!" whine Sorsha, wrapping herself around Harry like a scarf.

"Could we maybe address the zombie ambush right now?" asked a very put-upon Harry.

"The caravan!"

The party rushed to check the wagons but stopped at a shrill cry from Hedwig, "Gone! Gone!" she cried.

"What's she saying?" asked Ron.

"Gone," Harry translated. "Where'd they go."

"Vanished!" she cried. "Gone!"

"Vanished?" he wondered aloud, coming to a painful, almost sickening conclusion. "You don't think…"

But before he could finish a massive shape dropped into their midst. The suddenness of its appearance caught everyone off guard, freezing them in momentary shock.

Dark red scales glinted, and golden eyes glowed in the failing light. As one they reached for their weapons or went to cast but it was too late. Whirling like an angry twister the tail struck each one in turn, sending them all flying in different directions.

Now, the battle could truly begin.


	4. Chapter 03

Encounter, random?  
Chapter 03

…

Pain. Why was he always waking up in pain? Because he was a troublemaker, that's what the Dursley's would say. Because fame didn't stop him from being a dunderhead, that's what Snape would say. Because the greater good, that's what Dumbledore would say.

He was pretty sure all of them were wrong. He was pretty sure this was just the universe' way of reminding him it wasn't done playing with him. He was pretty sure.

"Well, well, I'm impressed. You're not dead."

The voice snidely pointing out the obvious sounded familiar. Blinking the agony out of his eyes he found one of the men from the caravan standing on the rubble of a burned-out structure, looking down at him disdainfully.

"Wha, the caravan," Harry mumbled, disoriented.

The man laughed, a high unpleasant sound, "I wouldn't worry about the caravan if I were you. No, you should be worrying about yourself."

His instincts screamed danger and he rolled just in time to avoid being swallowed by an earthen maw opening beneath him. Head clearing rapidly, he scrambled to his feet as the crude elemental assembled itself.

"Bad luck druid. You could have died quickly. Now we have to drag it out."

Dragging seemed to be something this elemental would be good at. Its hands were disproportionately massive as was its head which took up the entire torso and consisted mostly of mouth. The legs were short and squat and looked to be purely aesthetic.

It made no use of them anyway when it charged at him like an angry gorilla. He dodged one smashing hand and a follow up swipe that would have sent him flying.

"Stop wasting time. Just stand still and get squashed!"

The wizard made a harsh gesture with his right hand, and Harry suddenly found his feet trapped in hard muddy earth. The elemental rounded on him and raised both hands. The wizard's eyes glinted madly as the hands came down.

"Ha! And they said you were the dangerous one. I, uh… what?"

His gloating came to a stumbling halt when his elemental was thrown off. Green eyes glared from a face of craggy stone, course gray rock covering his whole body, overlaid with a spiderweb of micro fissures.

"Sorry to keep wasting your time," said Harry, "but I'm not done yet."

…

"Where are we?"

Having woken feeling like her ribs were crushing her lungs, Hermione found herself in a nightmare. Walls of pulsating flesh surrounded them on all sides, covered in wriggling tendrils whose purpose she could only guess.

Nearby Mowgli was looking around frantically and Sorsha rose groaning. This gave her some comfort, she wasn't alone, and she wasn't the only one seeing 'it'.

"Am I still out, or have we just gone to hell?" asked Sorsha.

"You're not out," said Hermione, "but as to the second one."

"You're not in hell," a deep booming voice echoed all around them. "But you may soon wish you were."

"That voice," said Sorsha. "That was one of the drivers."

"Harry was right. It was a setup."

"Let us go!" Mowgli demanded.

"Go! Now that would rather defeat the purpose of catching you wouldn't it?"

"You really think you can hold us?" said Sorsha defiantly.

Their captor cackled madly at her bravado, "No one has ever escaped my little funhouse," he boasted. "Not sane, anyway."

Snapping out like a whip, one of the wriggling tendrils wrapped around Sorsha's wrist. Glaring murderously at the pulsating appendage she made a vicious swipe with a flame wreathed hand, detaching the vile, offending bit of flesh, "Disgusting!"

"Oh, I should think a pair of whores could appreciate the possibilities here."

As if by command the wriggling tendrils began growing, reaching from the fleshy walls. His words were not lost on the two women who stood, hands ablaze, ready to defend their lives, and lady bits.

…

"Dance puppets, dance!"

"Ah bugger off!"

Digging his feet and bracing his shield, Ron held against a vicious axe swing, the shock of impact reverberating all down his arm. His sword flashed out, knocking a chunk off his attacker who staggered back barely a foot.

Golems, constructs animated by magic. This bunch was made of strong wood and vaguely man shaped. Ron had seen them load the wagons at the beginning of their trip, now they wielded simple weapons, intent on his death.

Funny though, he didn't remember there being so many of them.

"Watch it!" Vargas threw up his shield, protecting Ron's unguarded flank, following it with a magnificent swing of his sword that took the constructs arm clean off. It stumbled in confusion and Ron gave it a solid kick, knocking it back into its fellows who simply advanced around, paying it no heed.

Ron glared at the soulless humanoids. They weren't alive, felt neither pain, nor fear, nor mercy. The only advantage he had fighting the unfeeling things was that they provided no moral quandary for him to overcome. They were just things. Things could not be killed, just broken. He could do that, at least, he was trying to.

"Heads up!" Bounding over them, Merle made a spinning sweep in the middle of the crowd, extending her reach with Harry's staff and knocking most of them to the ground. Those she didn't lunged at her, weapons raised, forcing the bouncing cat girl back behind the shields. "Grabby, ain't they."

Ron considered himself lucky to have run into Vargas and Merle. He would have preferred Harry, just because, or Sorsha who would have turned the little matchstick men to ashes with one angry look. Still, his mentor/trainer and she of boundless energy were a descent substitute.

"Here they come again." The golems rushed, shields were raised, and the struggle renewed. Merle attacked around them, striking quick blows with her borrowed weapon, but against an enemy that felt no pain, the wooden staff was almost useless.

"Your struggles are in vain," the wizard gloated from his high perch on the burned-out rooftop. "Your strength is already waning. My golems never tire. Give up now and die with some dignity."

The wizards amused cackling wore on Ron's nerves and fueled his aching muscles. No way was he going to lose to this jerk. His pride would never allow it. Still, "Wish someone would shut him up."

"Wish granted!" Grabbing a stone off the ground, Merle gave it a toss then swung the staff like a bat.

A loud crack was followed by a pained, "Oof!" as the wizard doubled over in pain. To everyone's surprise, the golems gave a collective jerk at the same time and when they renewed their attack, they seemed slower, unfocused.

Three faces grinned, wicked, feral grins.

"Do it again!" Vargas barked, rushing the distracted golems with vigorous savagery in his sword and an old war hymn on his lips.

With the space provided by the paladin Ron grabbed stones and tossed them up for Merle who swung like a number four batter. Her aim wasn't quite as good as her first shot, but it was harder to hit a moving target and the wizard moved with frantic speed.

"Stand still sissy!" yelled the cat girl.

The wizard opened his mouth to retort, subconsciously pausing in his evasive maneuvering, and was clipped in the shoulder for his trouble. The hit threw him off balance and sent him stumbling back, back to a less sturdy section of the roof. The burnt shingles gave way under his foot, but he caught himself before his leg went all the way through.

He breathed a sigh of relief and made to gently pull his leg out only to get beaned right between the eyes. He jerked reflexively, falling back through the roof and out of sight.

The effect was instantaneous. Without their controller the golems staggered about directionless, "That got him!" declared Ron. "Go make sure he doesn't get back up. We'll finish this lot."

"Can do," the cat girl chirped.

…

"Ack! Get off me!" Hands of flame tore at the thick sticky tendrils that pulled and tugged relentlessly.

"When I find you, you son of an incontinent whore, I'm going to shove my hand straight up your ass!" Sorsha screamed, swatting away a groping tendril then blasting the squirming wall it was attached to.

The blast tore a hole in the fleshy partition which sealed shut almost instantly. It was no surprise. It had done that the last three times. They'd been fighting this fruitless battle for a good ten minutes and it was beginning to show. The small enclosed space was sweltering. Clothing clung tight to sweat dripping skin and breathing was becoming more and more of a challenge.

"Just give in," the voice taunted. "You know you want to."

Another surge of the groping tendrils followed his mad cackling and the warlocks blazed again. They would never give in. It was admirable, their determination. That was what Mowgli thought. The two females fought viciously, like a pair of angry tigers. He had much respect for that kind of spirit, but he could see in this situation it was fruitless.

No matter how hard or how long they fought there was no progress. It was like a dog chasing its tail, eventually the dog would tire and be no closer to catching its elusive quarry.

The price for failure here was much higher than the disappointment of failure. Death was almost certain, death, or worse. That did seem to be what was driving the warlocks to fight so recklessly. The taunting voice had implied it as well, though once again this seemed to be an adult thing he was not meant to understand.

He did understand their attacker had no interest in him. He'd sat on his haunches watching since the fight started and not one of the squishy tendrils had approached him. This was a clue. Whatever sorcery was being invoked it was clear someone was controlling it. If it were some sort of creature they were trapped inside it would surely have come for him. He was smaller and weaker than the other two. No beast with any sense would leave an easy meal for something that fought back.

"Filthy, disgusting, ah! Let go of me, let gah!" A pair of tendrils had managed to get around both Hermione's wrists and were pulling her toward the wall.

Sorsha leapt to help only to fall flat on her face into the squishy floor. A tendril wrapped around her ankle tugged tauntingly and was quickly joined by another. Grabbing her other ankle, they began pulling her toward their wall.

"Damn you! Let go!" The warlock tried to twist herself around and blast the fleshy bindings, but another tendril leapt from the wall and caught her round the forearm followed by another that slid teasingly around her waist.

Before she could use her free hand to burn something the collective tendrils gave one great pull. The warlock flew from the floor and plastered to the wall. The force of impact knocking the wind out of her, giving one more tendril the chance to snatch up her free hand and bind it to the pulsating pink partition.

"Sorsha!" Hermione cried, herself in similar straights to her fellow warlock, bound to the wall by sticky, groping, fleshy tendrils.

Sorsha groaned, struggling against her squishy bindings but it was no use. The tendrils held them tight, leaving little room to move, though this didn't stop all the new ones sprouting out of the walls from moving.

"Oh no, no, get away from me!" Hermione struggled vainly as the sticky tendrils groped and writhed all over her body, squirming under her clothes despite her violent protestation.

"I'm gonna sodomize you with a splintered log you hear muh… muh." A thick tendril plunged into her mouth ceased her threats, which seemed to greatly amuse their attacker.

"Yes, I think that's a much better use for that dirty mouth."

She did not agree but with her mouth full of the undulating tendril there was nothing she could say about it as his vile laughter echoed all around them.

That was when the realization hit him. The sense of wrongness that had been nagging at him since he woke up. He could hear their attacker, feel the thing that was attacking them, see it too, but he couldn't smell it.

Even after being burned numerous times there wasn't even the faintest scent of ash, never mind the sort of odors so much sticky flesh would naturally produce. It was a trick. He didn't know how it was being done but he knew it wasn't real. He also knew the one controlling it would have to be nearby, or how else would he command it so precisely.

His companions were in clear distress, so he had to act quickly. He could be almost positive he wasn't behind either of the walls the warlocks were bound to which left him two options.

He couldn't see any notable difference and when he spoke the voice came from all directions. His own nose, well trained as it was, couldn't pick out anything that would help, but he had others, and they had the weapons he would need when he found his enemy.

The transformation came swiftly. His small body grew, hands became paws, legs bent oddly, and his black hair raced to cover his entire body as a long swishing tail sprouted out the back. The panther opened its mouth and took a deep, revealing breath. Without hesitation the jet-black feline shot forward. Passing through the wall like it wasn't even there he found a very startled looking wizard on the other side. He held a glowing book in one hand which fell to the ground when the panther leapt on him, gripping the man's neck in his powerful jaws.

Dropping under the panther's weight, he gurgled weakly as blood spurted from his throat. With a single vicious yank, the panther tore the throat clean out, blood splattering across his feline face. Life coursing from his open neck like a crimson river the man had only enough time to look upon his slayer before the reaper cut his string and his body gave one last spastic jerk.

…

"Graaaah! Why won't you just stand still and die!"

Too dumb to quit probably. Harry darted around the wave of earth the wizard conjured and rushed at him. His elemental was quick to put itself between them and swung a clobbering hand at Harry.

The elemental was slow, but absurdly durable. Harry dodged the smashing hand and laid into the rock thing with a bone breaking blow. A small crack was his only reward and he ducked away before the elemental could grab him.

This had been the dance since Harry had first donned the stone skin to avoid his smashing. The wizard tried to hinder him while letting his elemental do the hard work, and hard work it was. The elemental was covered in fissures and cracks from where Harry had hit it, none of which seemed to be slowing it down at all. It was just too sturdy, too durable to be hindered by such minor injuries.

Oddly, though he hadn't moved a foot during the fight, the wizard was panting heavily. His own attacks had greatly dwindled since the fight began when he hurled earthen waves and sink hole traps with wild abandon.

He must have exhausted himself with his casting, Harry thought, which explained his impotent fury. He was scared, desperate. If Harry could get past the elemental, would the wizard be able to defend himself?

Only one way to find out.

Rushing the elemental, he threw a punch that was caught by the massive stone palm. Dancing around and away from the other hand as it sought to smash him, he got behind the blocking hand and struck at the wrist.

A loud crack echoed and the elemental staggered back, flailing. Harry watched disbelieving, he'd hurt it, finally he'd hurt it. It came to him quickly why and he could have smacked himself for being so dumb.

He'd been trying to overpower it, match his strength against its strength and prove he was the superior. It was stupid because the elemental was plainly stronger and he didn't need to prove anything, he needed to win.

"I am such a stupid Gryffindor," he mumbled before rushing in to renew his assault.

The elemental saw him coming and raised a massive hand to guard. Harry slipped around it and began pummeling the delicate joint. The elemental tried to swing its arm and succeeded in knocking Harry away, but in the process its mighty hand joined the druid, flying away from its body.

Harry smiled wickedly while the elemental groaned in shock. With startling speed Harry was on him again. Two solid blows took the rest of the arm off and when it tried to retreat it was thrown off by its poor weight distribution.

"You're done!" Fists of stone smashed like hammers, turning the elemental into an ugly mouth with eyes.

Thoroughly defeated, the elemental squirmed humiliated for a short time before crumbling to indistinct rubble. "That's one. Next." The wizard stared at him with angry hate filled eyes. It reminded him of Draco Malfoy.

A quick flex, his skin returned to normal and he slowly approached the wizard who flinched back, trembling.

"Don't run," taunted Harry, "wouldn't want to drag this out any longer."

A reflexive smirk across the wizard's face was his only warning before the trap was sprung. Water surged like a geyser and Harry had just enough presence of mind to take a huge gulp of air before he was entirely engulfed.

The wizard laughed madly at his triumph, "Stupid boy! You thought you had me?"

Arrogantly the wizard strode within arms reach of the elemental, standing in the murky pool his summoning had conjured. Harry glared, taking an impotent swing which left him twisting and squirming futilely.

The wizard laughed at the helpless display, "Didn't expect I could summon two types of elementals, did you? Water and earth," wiggling the fingers on his left hand in front of Harry's face, displaying a large ring. "You would not believe the trouble I went through to get this. That wizard, well, I'm sure he'd be very upset, if he weren't dead."

The wizard broke off into mad cackling, but Harry could barely hear him. His head was pounding, and his ears drummed to the sound of thunder.

"Hahaha ha, eh, hey! What're you doing!" Eyes glowing like bolts from the sky, lightning surged from the druid. The elemental screamed as it was ionized but the wizard made no sound at all as the electric current grasped him by the feet that were standing in the puddle and cooked him from the inside out.

The lightshow ceased when the elemental ceased, dropping Harry to the muddy earth with a soggy squelch. Pulling his face out of the muck, "I really need to get a grip on that," he said, using a less muddy hand to wipe his face.

"Spose I could have turned into a fish too, that might have worked," he mused, hauling his leaden body from the mud to examine his fallen adversary.

The smell of cooked human flesh was at the same time repellent and strangely appetizing. Harry gagged, covering his face as he stared down at the flash fried wizard. A glint from his hand caught Harry's eye and with some effort, he pried the ring from the dead man's hand. "I bet you'd be very upset, if you weren't dead."

Harry was hesitant to put the ring on, he being covered in mud and it still having bits of burnt flesh clinging to it. He was rolling the overlarge ring in his hand when he heard a familiar key, the sound of a guitar which he'd become well acquainted of late. It was sweet, melodious, and it made his blood boil.

He easily followed the music to it source, a dark-skinned woman sitting on the low remains of a wall. She barely glanced up as he approached, her face drawn, melancholy, "Hello Harry."

The genuine sadness in her tone halted him. After everything, he'd just assumed. Was he wrong? Was this just another trap? Was he letting his sympathy get the better of him?

Taking a deep breath to cool his temper, he looked at her and demanded in a loud clear voice, "Tell me you didn't know. Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't plan this all from the very start!"

She flinched, missed a note, but she never looked up, said not a word. That itself told Harry all he needed to know, "Why!" he growled. "Why do this? What did we ever do to you?"

She didn't look up, he thought she might be ignoring him till she spoke, "It was nice, to play my guitar again," she said. "I've so little chance anymore."

Harry had no idea what any of that had to do with attacking them, but before he could open his mouth another voice cut in, disdainful and dripping with scorn, "Oh really Alera, must you be so melodramatic."

Out of the murky shadows another woman strode, clad in red armor with a helm like the face of a dragon. Her skin, what little he could see, was the same dark color as Alera, and her face, visible with the helm visor raised, was a near perfect mirror, save for the snide, superior expression.

"Altera," said Alera, head still down.

The armored woman, Altera, gave no heed to her twin, eyes roaming over the dark-haired man covered in mud, "So this is the druid I've heard so much about, hm?"

"Have you?" He forced his voice to remain neutral. He'd no idea what either woman was capable of but this new one was almost certainly some sort of fighter, and a confident one at that.

"Alera, shoo. I'll handle this."

"Yes sister."

Placing her hand to the silver breastplate he'd never seen her wear before, an emblem on the chest began to glow. Two huge white wings erupted from her back, and with one last sad look she turned and exploded into the sky.

"She's a softy, my sister," said the armored woman conversationally. "Probably starve to death if I wasn't there to take care of her."

Harry doubted the validity of the woman's statement, though it did call one of his assumptions into question. "Am I to take it you are the one behind this little ambush?"

"Of course," she admitted readily. "You didn't seriously think Alera could have plotted out something so cold blooded."

"Until recently?"

The woman laughed, "Don't take it personally. If Kumbra had done her job, you'd already be dead. Our master detests failure."

The mention of 'their master' should have been pinging his interest, but the simple sound of Kumbra had turned his mind red. Rage swelled and his body swelled in response, rising several feet in height and growing a few hundred pounds of muscle.

The woman smirked at the troll glaring down at her with its vicious tusks and beady black eyes full of hate, "Not bad," she said, "but mine's better."

Sliding her visor into place she vanished under a cloud of crimson smoke. The Harry troll took a reflexive step back as the cloud exploded in size, billowing into a massive shape before hardening, a foreign yet familiar form.

Claws and talons like wicked hooked blades decorated her hands and feet. Massive membranous wings stretched out like a cloak unfurled. Rancid, hot breath spewed between dagger like teeth, and large dark eyes glowed with malicious intelligence.

Glaring back at the red and black dragon, Harry had but one thought, "Aw, bollocks!"

The dragon didn't give him time to mope, lunging at him like a scaly tiger, fangs flashing in the flames of her own burning breath. Caught off guard by the dragon's speed, he managed to avoid the teeth while getting checked by the shoulder, knocking him brutally to one side. The pain was a shock. He'd been stabbed several times in the pirate raid and barely felt a thing.

This felt like he was ten again, being held down by Dudley's friends while his cousin pummeled his skinny, underweight butt. The thought made him snarl, a horrible inhuman sound.

The dragon lashed at him with her tail, popping spikes at the end like a cat flexing its claws. Harry made no move to dodge and the spikes bit deep into his side. Flinching at the bite of the spikes, he fought through the pain and grabbed the tail in his two mighty hands.

"Hey! Stop that!" Panicking, the dragon gripped the ground as he pulled with all his might.

Her claws and talons dug deep trenches, but the dusty earth was no match for his fury fed force. In desperation she came about and used her wing to strike him across the face. It was a weak blow but distracting enough he lost his grip and her tail snapped out of his reach.

"Burn asshole!" Her mouth glowed with a roiling flame and Harry dove as it opened, spewing fire like an angry diatribe.

Scrambling on all fours to avoid the jet of flame, the troll that was Harry wondered at the dragons impossibly large lung span, spewing fire for what felt like minutes before finally stopping to take a breath.

Thinking to take advantage, Harry made a reckless charge only to find himself staring down another mouth full of fire. Mad glee gleaming in her eyes reflected his doom as he fruitlessly scrambled back. Neither saw nor heard the massive body descending till it landed on the dragon's head with a flying elbow drop.

The unfamiliar troll bounced back up like a rabbit and began kicking the dragon in the head. Possibly concussed, the dragon staggered away from the assault only to be tackled by yet another troll who paid little heed to what he was doing and just kept pushing forward till the dragon fell on her side, the troll flopping on top of her.

"Get off me you great lump!"

"Nope."

There was an absurdity to the scene Harry didn't know how to process. Explanation came in the form of three glowing darts that zipped out of the darkness and stated chattering at him.

"Huh? Say wha… slow down would ya!" His fairies spoke too fast for him to interpret but he guessed they were somehow involved in the arrival of the others.

Making her feet while he tried to make sense of his fairies, Altera let loose with a powerful roar. The kicking troll fell over backwards and the other trundled over to them unconcerned, a placid big-eyed expression on his face.

Harry shooed away the fairies to focus on the fuming dragon and together the three trolls faced the winged fire lizard. "You think you've got me!" she growled, flame dripping from her gaping maw. "I'll burn you all to ash!"

Fire leapt between furious fangs, exploding into a blazing wall that swallowed up all three trolls. She held the blast till she was forced to stop for air and eagerly waited to see her handiwork. Two warlocks, hands outstretched, was not what she had hoped to find. Neither had she anticipated the two swordsmen, the cat girl, or the panther.

"Try that again scale-face. I dare you." The warlocks taunt filled her with rage but not so much she couldn't see the tide of battle had turned against her. Useless wizards!

With one final frustrated roar she opened her might wings and fled into the dark flashing sky. Harry watched her fly away, snarling. It irked him to let her go but one glance at his friends told him they'd had enough battle. "Another time," he rumbled quietly, shifting back to his human form before turning to his friends. "Is everyone alright?"

"Yep," said the placid faced troll.

"Francis, is that you?"

"Yep."

Buzzing about the two unfamiliar trolls his fairies undid their spell, returning them to their natural state. The badger and the rabbit looked up at him, completely unperturbed. "I did not know you could do that."

But before he had time to think on the ramification, a crack of thunder shook the sky. "We need to find shelter," said Vargas.

"Maybe a little privacy too." Sorsha plastered herself to Harry's back and began rubbing against him shamelessly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione looking very fidgety and giving Ron a hungry look.

There was a hint of desperation, and Harry had a pretty good idea why and what they both needed. So much for getting any sleep tonight.

"Millet, Rue, Thistle, go find my pack." The three fairies zipped into the dark and Harry weathered Sorsha's attentions till they returned, and he was able to put a roof over their heads. As much as he wanted to discuss the evenings events, he could see the fatigue in his comrades. They all needed rest. They'd go over it in the morning.


	5. Chapter 04

Encounter Random?  
Chapter 04

…

A dark surf crashed against the cliffside. The sun had yet begun to lighten the sky and a cold wind blew the waves higher and higher with each resounding crash. Drifting on the howling wind a song sailed out into the pitiless night. It was soft, sad, melancholy. Had there been ears to hear they would have wept with great bitterness as each pluck of the string also plucked at their hearts.

Alera sat atop the cliff, white wings wrapped protectively, bearing her heart to the world. It did not listen. It did not care. The world was a hard, merciless place, as she had so often been told. It crushed her.

It was her own fault, she knew. She was too soft, too weak. If only she would harden herself, if only she could harden herself. She pondered these things as she so often did, alone in dark places where she would much rather forget. But she couldn't, her sister would not let her.

Lost in thought, it did not stop her from being fully aware of her surroundings. She heard the heavy beat of massive wings long before they skirted the cliff, before the overly heavy crash not ten feet from where she sat.

"Hello sister. Did you enjoy your flight?"

She never looked up as the massive beast became human sized. Had she spared a glance she would have found her sisters human face looking draconically furious, "None of your sass Alera! I'm in no mood for it," the dragon sister snarled.

The melancholic sister looked up at her raging twin, startled. Not at being snarled at, that happened all the time, "Did things not proceed as you had hoped?"

"They ganged up on me!" she shouted, furiously pacing, "I had to run!"

This admission outright shocked the quiet sister, "You didn't kill them? Any of them?" It beggared belief, especially knowing what her sister could do.

"And where were you, huh? Where were you when I could have actually used your help!"

Alera said nothing to her sister's accusation. There would be no point reminding her that it had been she, Altera, who had ordered Alera away. No, her sister hated reminders. They caused her to leave reminders.

Alera sat silently as her sister paced, angrily cursing and growling. She hated seeing her like this. Feared it. And that fear triggered another thought, "He will not be pleased," she said quietly, though not so quietly Altera did not hear, causing her to go deathly still.

If there was one person Altera was afraid of, it was her master. This was one of the few things the dark-skinned twins had in common. Altera moaned fearfully, her pacing taking a panicked pace as she mumbled to herself, "He, he wouldn't, I mean. It's my first time and, this is all Kumbra's fault. It's not… it's not even my mess I mean, and, the wizards, the wizards!"

"All dead," said Alera, calmly plucking her guitar, "all except that Ironfield fellow."

"Ironfield! The caravan!"

Alera nodded, "Moving as planned. Ironfield met it on schedule and took the fourth wagon. The rest is on route to the appointed rendezvous."

The horses didn't need drivers anymore. Bound by illusionary guise they would walk until they reached their destination or dropped dead. It seemed a cruel thing to do to such faithful creatures, but it was not her decision to make.

"Alright! Alright, so it's not a total failure. I can work with this. I can work with this."

It was unnerving listening to her sister work so hard to convince herself. She'd never been good in a crisis, schemes within plots within plans, that was how she liked it. She hadn't thought this group of mercenary's worth serious effort. Clearly that had been a mistake.

Her sister had gotten arrogant. Now, in her panic, she was grasping at straws, trying to turn an abysmal failure into just one step in her 'master plan'. Incredible, the lies we tell ourselves.

"Just a test, that's what I'll tell him. Sounding them out, probing for weaknesses. It wasn't a failure. Everything is going exactly according to plan."

It really wasn't, but saying as much out loud would be counterproductive, "If that's what you're going to tell him I hope you're ready to sell it," said Alera. "The sun is coming up. He'll be calling any moment."

The dragon sister looked ill as her sister produced a familiar hand mirror from her chest plate, "I, I know. There's nothing to worry about. I can handle this. I can handle this!"

Her tone betrayed her doubts, her claims more for her own sake than Alera's, "Of course sister. Of course."

…

It was hot, burning, stifling, trying to destroy him. He gripped it with both giant arms, but they were weak, heavy. He moaned as he wrestled it, but he couldn't overcome the burning. It was hot, so hot.

He woke with a start, gasping as his brain switched modes and began processing sensory data. He was hot, the heavy blanket lain over him was doing its job a little too well, but that wasn't all. He was naked under the blanket, and he wasn't alone. Another body was pressed flush with his, a hand gently stroking his hair while the other held him close.

He tilted his head up and found Sorsha staring down at him, "You have a most troubled mind," she said, her tone gently teasing.

Harry gave a rueful smile. What could he even say to such a statement? Nothing, instead he buried his face into her bosom and breathed a long deep breath. Her scent helped ground him, bring him back to reality. It was still too damn hot though, so he climbed out of bed and went to the window.

The storm had passed, and a cool breeze brushed his skin, raising gooseflesh up and down his arms. As he stood cooling in the morning breeze something hot and soft pressed herself into his back.

"Think you can get away from me, do you?" she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling his cheek.

"You're too hot," he said, smiling at her indignant squawk.

"No such thing," she said, resting her chin on his shoulder while she tried to meld her front to his back.

Harry was content to let her try. He was still tired, not enough to sleep but too much to feel any great motivation. Sorsha seemed to take his silence for brooding, which maybe it was, and revisited her earlier statement with a question, "What troubles you so that it follows you even into your dreams?"

"Everything," he sighed.

He could tell this was an insufficient response, her nuzzling suggested as much, but what could he say. "Has it always been like this?" she prodded gently, tracing small circles in his abdomen.

"Yeah, pretty much."

She tried to get him to talk more but all her touching and caressing was just making it harder for him to think. Reluctantly he peeled himself off the busty warlock and leaned his back against the cold stone wall next to the window.

The sudden jolt up his spine helped clear his head and he considered his response as Sorsha waited expectantly, also naked. Damn she was distracting.

"I've always had nightmares, as far back as I can remember. Used to be they were all the same, a flash of green, my mother's scream, her murderer's laugh. I was only a year old when my parents were killed, but that night has haunted me ever since.

"Once I turned eleven and things in my life got, interesting, I found new things to be traumatized by, new terrors to creep into my dreams, new fears to wake me up at night."

As much as he'd loved his time at Hogwarts, he couldn't deny the place had given him more than a few nightmares. Not even counting the one's from the previous year which were something else entirely.

True to her nature, once he'd finished speaking, she nodded then plastered her front to his, "You worry too much," she said, nuzzling his nose.

Harry wasn't sure he agreed but it was hard to argue with her when she was rubbing herself all over him, "You hungry?" he asked, trying to distract her.

"Mm, I could eat." The sudden rumble from below her chest supported this. Harry just thought it was cute how she blushed.

The smell of food unsurprisingly roused the rest and in one's and two's they shuffled down the stairs, or in Mowgli's case slithered. Why he decided to sleep as a snake, who could say? He wasn't.

Ron and Hermione were the last to the table. Ron shuffling like a starving zombie while Hermione, half dressed, hung off his shoulders like a sexy backpack. He didn't even seem to notice.

"Surprised we didn't hear them last night," whispered Merle as Ron began to inhale his food.

"It's one of the special features I had included when I bought the tower," said Harry, "specifically with those two in mind."

"Your home is very nice," said Mowgli, "and it moves. Just like a tortoise."

Harry smiled; glad his new habitation was to their liking. He'd been thinking of all of them when he'd chosen the little tweaks and furnishings. The table for instance, not as big as the one in Grimmauld Place but slightly larger than the Weasley's.

Some people made their homes to fit their families. Harry had no family, just a bunch of weirdos sat at his table eating his food. Actually, it really wasn't so different, was it.

"Now that everyone's awake," said Harry, "I spose now's as good a time to talk about what happened last night."

"You mean our caravan turning on us and trying to feed us to a horde of zombies?" said Merle.

"And everything that followed. Why don't we go around the table and fill in the gaps?"

Merle, delighted to be the center of attention, was happy to regale them at length on her defeat of the golem wizard. Vargas cut in a few times when her exaggerations went too far, and Ron asked for seconds.

Hermione detailed the battle with the illusionist, letting Mowgli explained how he found the man out. A quick trip to her room produced a fancy hard-back tome with blood smeared across the cover.

"I'm not sure how this was involved in his magic, but he was holding it when Mowgli killed him. It must be important."

Important, perhaps, but since no one at the table recognized it, there was no way to know why or how. Putting that mystery aside for the time, it was Harry's turn. He roughly outlined his battle with the wizard and his elementals. The revelation of their caravan leader's involvement was little surprise at that point, but the other and her connection to 'that woman' gave them all pause.

During said pause, the rabbit and the badger toddled in with the fairies, and requested to be fed.

"So, they were working for, 'her'?" said Ron.

"No," said Harry, placing two bowls on the floor for his animal companions. "With her, maybe. Now that I think about it, she seemed somewhat dismissive of her."

"I am most curious about this master she mentioned," said Vargas, a hard, brooding expression creasing his brow.

"The plot thickens," said Merle dramatically.

"If his subordinates are anything to go by, he must be very powerful," Hermione pointed out logically.

"Then let's hope he's nowhere nearby," said Harry. "If they'd managed that attack better, we'd all be dead now."

"That's always how it is though," said the seasoned Vargas. "No matter how good you are, sometimes the other guy just gets lucky."

"The creep," Merle added.

Everyone chuckled at the cat girl's little joke but Harry, lost in thought had not even heard her. "What chance you think we have of tracking them down. Alera or her sister."

"Or the wagons," Mowgli chimed in.

"Oh yeah," he'd forgotten about them. "Who was driving them if we were fighting the drivers?"

"Probably whoever set up the illusion keeping those zombies penned in. That wasn't done by the one we fought."

Sorsha was right, it wasn't logistically possible. Which meant there were even more people involved than they'd yet seen. Brilliant.

"We should examine the bodies. We may find something on one of them."

All nodded at the paladin's suggestion. The fairies thought it was such a great idea they buzzed over to the door and demanded to be let out. With a sigh, Harry meandered to the door and opened it a crack. He was knocked on his ass when it burst open under the force of a gray skinned man who fell on Harry with blank eyes and slavering jaws.

"Looks like we missed one," shouted Ron, leaping from the table to help his friend.

"So, first task. Kill anything that isn't dead," said Sorsha, calmly watching the men wrestle the undead off her boy toy.

"Do you think if it bites him, he'll turn into a zombie?" Merle wondered aloud.

"Oh don't be ridiculous," Hermione snapped, "It's not a werewolf."

"Are you a necromancer?" Merle shot back.

"Of course not."

"Then how do you know?"

She didn't. And while her pride refused to let her acknowledge this her temper demanded she say something. Incoherent sputtering however was not what she had hope for. Honestly, it was like trying to have a conversation with Luna.

"You planning to sit there all day!" shouted a beleaguered Ron as he and Vargas fought the not dead man through the door.

"I suppose," sighed Sorsha, "Let's go loot the bodies."

The chipper cat girl bounced happily after her, "Let's!"


	6. Chapter 05

Encounter Random?  
Chapter 05

…

The burned-out village looked no better in the daylight than it had in the dark. Crumbled husks dripped with fresh rain, their blackened masonry drying in the morning sun. Though the sky had cleared there was still a chill in the air. Autumn was passing quickly, and winter was on its way.

"Nothing in this one."

This did nothing to dissuade the party from their task, grisly as it seemed. There were many corpses to search, some of which were not easy to look at.

The dead wizards were the easiest to handle. The one Merle had beaned with the rock had simply broken his neck, and Mowgli had showed great restraint in only ripping the throat out of his.

Harry's was a little hard, given it still smelled like cooked ham, even after its thorough washing, and some found that off putting. Okay it was mostly Hermione, but still.

"What exactly are we looking for?" asked Ron as he rolled another mangled corpse and began rooting around in its pockets.

"Anything that might tell us where they were going or who they were working for," said Hermione, standing behind him and 'supervising'.

"We know where their going," said Ron. "They told us before we left."

"Do you really think they were telling the truth Ron, really?"

The youngest Weasley son gave his demanding bedmate a sour look, "Why not?" he insisted. "They obviously expected to kill us here. Why lie when there's no need?"

The uncertainty that crossed her face gave him a sense of satisfaction. It must have showed because she gave him a pout and walked away, swaying her hips in a way that gave him very mixed feelings.

"Any luck Harry?" he called to his friend, busy hunting nearby.

"Not really," he yelled back.

Having already gone through and emptied the wizard's pockets, Harry was now looking for the ring he'd taken off him the previous night, "Should've left it on," he grumbled.

He'd concluded it must have been at least partially buried by the rain. Hedwig had been circling overhead for some time without spotting it. That could only mean it wasn't visible.

He would have asked Mowgli to help but the jungle boy had gotten a whiff of something and gone loping off before anyone could call him back. Harry of course could do the wolf shape too, but he didn't know how to use the nose to track, not like Mowgli. He'd need to learn eventually but now was not the time.

Frustrated, he flopped down where he was and began brooding… I mean thinking. Everyone was hard at work looking. Hedwig overhead, Francis and Mr. Hopperfield on the ground. Even the fairies were buzzing about in an erratic uncoordinated tizzy. They were supposed to be looking but Harry wasn't sure what they were going to find like that.

"There definitely needs to be some training in the near future," he mumbled as Rue collided with Thistle, making Millet laugh as they crashed to the ground in a tangled heap. "Oh bother."

While he sat moping on the incompetence of his minions, Francis waddled up and flopped down in front of him. Harry gave a weak chuckle at the plush beast. He was consistent, you couldn't say he wasn't that.

"Whatcha say Francis, find anything?" Like a pop gun Francis spit something out which bounced off Harry's leg. Harry picked up the tiny projectile only to nearly drop it when he saw the two-colored stone, "Francis, you squashy little bear, your brilliant!"

"Yep."

"Watcha find?" the cat girl pranced up excitedly and draped herself across his back.

"This is the ring that wizard I fought last night had," he said, too excited to care about being used like a coat rack. "He said this was what allowed him to summon those elementals I fought."

"Oo!" she was expressed. "So how's it work?"

"I have no idea."

"Awwwww!"

The brief time in which the wizard had gloated before Harry fried him hadn't been sufficient to provide a demonstration, "Maybe there's something on the inside." There wasn't, wishful thinking really.

"You summon wolves, how different can it be?"

Very, that was his first thought. He didn't know a lot about summoning but he felt it must be something like conjuration which was part of transfiguration which he did know something about.

He knew the comparison might be grasping at straws, but it was the only comparison he had. None of that mattered though. What mattered was, he had something cool and he was going to make it work.

"Maybe if I just channel my magic through it." It wasn't a wand, but it did seem to be some sort of focus. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on pushing his magic into the ring. He felt no change at first, nothing but the passing of time and the clenching of his butt. After a while, with no apparent change, he stopped to take a breath.

Opening his eyes, he was shocked to see the stone glowing, "Well, that's something."

"Not much," said Merle, still hanging off him.

"Were you planning to get up anytime?" he asked, beginning to feel the strain.

The cat girl whined and tried to nuzzle him into submission, but he was on to her game. Placing his hands on the ground for support to get up, he received a nasty shock when the earth began to shake.

"Yeeee! What's going on!" squealed Merle as she and Harry went rolling down a swiftly growing hill.

The smoothly rising earth exploded as hard craggy stone burst forth, rising out of the ground like an angry looking wall. The enormous elemental rose up twenty feet, shaped like a small mountain with glowing golden eyes and jagged stone jaws.

The rest of the party, who'd come running when the ground began to shake, stood frozen in fear and awe at the tremendous elemental. The elemental however, had eyes only for his summoner.

"Blood and stone!" The elemental's booming voice shook the ground with every utterance, "So, the ring has passed once again, and once again I stand to judge some unworthy mortal who thinks he would command my power."

The elementals voice echoed like an earthquake, his presence akin to some great and ancient king. Somehow, Harry managed to miss all that, "Who are you calling unworthy!"

"You, mortal," the elemental replied like it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Isn't it a bit soon to be making judgements?" insisted Harry, biting back a growl. "We've only just met."

The elemental scoffed, a powerful jet of air like a dry geyser that nearly knocked Harry off his feet, "One mortal differs from another very little," he said dismissively. "Dozens have worn the ring. Dozens have called me forth."

"I didn't actually mean to do that," Harry interrupted. "It just kinda happened."

"Then you are both unworthy and incompetent," the elemental groaned like grinding gravel.

"Uh oh," whispered Merle, the only one close enough to see Harry shaking.

Without even thinking to, the young druid bulged and swelled, stepping up to the great rock face snarling between upward jutting tusks, "You wanna say that again, rock pile!"

The elemental did not deign to answer but blasted the troll with an earth-shaking roar. The party shrank back, covering their ears at the auditory assault. Taking the full brunt of the attack, Harry was forced away but managed to plant his feet and brace against the attack.

The elemental took no rest, having no need, and continued his vocal blast long past the point where Harry's eardrums were shattered.

The pain of this seemed distant, a minor annoyance beneath his bubbling fury. With all his will he forced himself forward. His whole body shook, vibrating right through the bone. He staggered back again, almost falling, forced to one knee.

Seeing this the elemental ceased its attack, "Pitiful," it said with evident disdain.

Even with his ability to hear gone, he could still feel the elementals booming voice. He lunged, his own roar preceding his thundering charge.

The elemental, unimpressed, blasted a large stone from its mouth like a cannonball. Harry drove his shoulder into the attack which shattered against him. Again it blasted him, and Harry countered with a rock smashing punch.

When the elemental repeated his attack again Harry caught the projectile and hurled it back. The elemental grunted when the rock shattered between its eyes and it glared at the smirking faux troll.

"Enough of this folly!" A terrible rumble preceded a pair of massive boulder arms erupting from the ground like serpents of stone. Each arm was thick around as an old oak tree and each hand big enough to grasp the troll like a child's toy, which is precisely what they tried to do.

Harry wrestled the first one aside before pummeling the other with a barrage of meaty fists.

"Go get'em Harry!" The cheering cat girl seemed the only one who could do more than stare at the absurd tableau. A hulking troll wrestling with snaking arms of stone. If that sounds preposterous to you, congratulations, you are probably still sane.

(If it doesn't, As the mayor of Crazy Town I'd like to give a most ridiculous welcome.)

A moments distraction as the earth shifted beneath his feet cost Harry and he was promptly smashed by the hand he'd not just been assaulting. He was already getting to his feet when the other came down, and then again, and again.

"Persistent little bug."

The elemental beat the troll like a rented drum, hard, fast, and without pause. Yet despite the brutality Harry kept getting back up. He could feel he was pushing his regenerative abilities, but he didn't care. Pain and fury melded, mixed, braided together into a powerful cord that kept pulling him back from the edge of unconsciousness.

"Little fool! Know your place."

Raising his mighty maulers as high as he could reach, the elemental brought them down with all the force of a furious falling star. A great cloud of dust exploded on contact. Cries of disbelief were drowned out by the elementals roar which was abruptly cut off when a hulking shape shot out of the dust cloud and dropped meteoric on the elementals head.

It was Harry. Glowing with electrical surge he pounded the elemental like a thousand-pound sledgehammer. The elementals snake like arms flailed into the air and struck at the raging troll. Without their hands they were far less effective, and Harry swatted them aside with a crushing backhand.

Merle cheered and the others gaped as the thundering troll pummeled his way through the raging elemental. He'd reduced about half his enemy to rubble when the elemental shook violently before descending back into the earth.

The troll roared and beat the ground several times before standing tall and proclaiming his victory. "Woohoo! Harry!"

Lightning faded and the grinning troll turned to his friends who stared in disbelief. He chuckled at their expressions but before he could move an inch, the slightest tremble of the earth shook his foot, causing him to pause. With frightful speed, the earth split open like a gaping maw. Tumbling in with a look of pure astonishment, Harry vanished.

Now even Merle was stunned silent and it was Hermione who cried, "HARRY!" The shriek split the air and set the nearby birds to fearful flight. It couldn't be, it just couldn't. Her mind could not comprehend the possibility.

"Give him back!" the shell-shocked Merle demanded tearfully of the toothy mound that had swallowed the troll.

For the first time since it appeared, the elemental spoke to them, "No."

Cracking along very fragile lines, Hermione found this response to be unacceptable, "Give him back!" she screamed, punctuating it with an explosive blast of flame.

The elemental weathered the assault like a stone weathers the rain, unperturbed. "As I have tested all others who came before, so to will this one be tested."

"Tested! Tested for what!"

"Worthiness," the stone said simply.

"Do we get him back when you're done?" Merle jumped in when it looked like Hermione would start chucking fireballs.

"If he survives, he will return."

"And how long is this test gonna take?" said Ron, his wits at last collected.

"That, will be up to him." And with a last deep rumble, the mound went silent.

"Sooooooo, we just sit here and wait?" asked Merle.

"Doesn't seem there's much else we can do," said Vargas, staring concerned at the mound.

"You think Harry'll mind if we raid the kitchen?"

The gingers inquiry helped lift the mood but before Hermione could berate him for being an insensitive glutton, a large vulture swooped down out of nowhere.

"Holy!"

"Geez!"

"Birdy!"

The vulture hadn't even touched down when its form melted into that of a familiar small boy. Feet barely on the ground, Mowgli raced up to them in a near breathless panic, "I found the caravan!"

In short hurried words he described how he'd tracked their scent to an abandoned road where he was able to quickly catch up with them on the wing. One wagon was missing, and Merle was heartbroken to hear it was the one with her beloved fishy in it. But this was of minor concern to the others as compared to the lack of drivers leading the wagons.

"They must be under some sort of guise," said Sorsha.

Ron leaned over and whispered to Merle, "What does that mean?"

"They'll walk till they get where their going or die, whichever comes first."

"What of the dragon?" asked Vargas.

The jungle boy shook his head, "I didn't see her and there was no scent of her on the wagons."

"What about Alera?" asked Hermione.

Again, no.

"Can we catch up?"

"I think so. I flew some miles ahead and found the road eventually runs along the sea cliffs. It takes a wide path from here to there. If we go straight through the woods, I think we can catch up to them."

"Well, what are we waiting for!" said Ron excitedly, only for Merle to rain on his parade.

"That," she said, pointing at the mouthy mound.

"What's that?" said Mowgli, causing the others to groan.

While Merle excitedly explained recent events the others quietly went over their options.

"What do we do?" What could they do?

…

(Author's note)

I'm sure all you D&D buffs out there know what they shouldn't do. But for those that don't, let's all sing the song.

"Don't you know, you never split the party. Clerics in the back, keep those fighters hale and hearty. A wizard in the middle, so he can shed some light. And you NEVER let that damn thief out of sight."

…

Next chapter. Harry's side quest begins and the others make a difficult (translation : stupid) decision.


	7. Chapter 06

Encounter Random?  
Chapter 06

…

Broad, vast, endless. The flat earthen plane stretched on and on beyond the range of sight and even further still. There was no wind, no clouds in the sky, only the plane and the harsh white light beating down upon it.

"Where am I?"

The troll that was Harry Potter stared in confusion, his mind attempting, and failing, to come to grips with his current situation. He remembered the fight, the roiling rage and the elemental crumbling beneath his furious fists.

He remembered the earth opening, swallowing him up. There was movement in the darkness, he was moving. Then he wasn't. Then it wasn't dark.

Was he alive? Was he dreaming? He was a troll, which to anyone else would have suggested, dreaming. Harry was not anyone else, though he'd often wished he was, but it was an ambition he had given up on long ago. So, he was a troll, big deal. Didn't explain where he was.

Reluctantly, he shifted back to his human form. There was no one around to fight, there was no one around at all. No one and nothing. Or so he thought, until something came squirming up out of the ground directly under his foot.

"What the!" Harry exclaimed as it shoved itself through the earth, sending him toppling over backwards. "Bloody hell!'

It was indignation heaped on indignation. The current indignation wiggled itself out of the hole it had opened and gave a quick shake, turning around several times before finally spotting Harry. "Found you!" he declared excitedly.

Harry didn't know how to take the little gargoyles declaration. It was at once the ugliest and yet the cutest thing he'd ever seen. It was a pup, small and wiggly and full of life, which was odd given that it looked to be made of smooth black stone.

"What are you?"

"Guide!" he barked. "Guide! Guide! I'm a guide!"

It was hard not to laugh at the happy little creature as he ran about excitedly barking his purpose, but Harry was just confounded enough to manage it. "Will you hold still for a second."

It took some effort, but Harry managed to get ahold of the little wiggle dog. This didn't slow him down and he happily licked at Harry's face with a tongue as coarse as sandpaper.

"Stop, stop," Harry protested till the happy gargoyle obeyed. "Alright, now, one more time. What are you, and why are you here?"

"Guide!" he barked. "I'm a guide you."

"Guide me where? And where are we?"

"The plane," the pup said. "I'm a guide you to da boss. Da boss made me to guide you. I'm a guide you!"

Looking at the happily squirming rock dog, Harry had a pretty good idea who 'da boss' was. Though why he would be guiding him?

Staring out at the empty endless waste provided no answers and his guides wiggling was becoming insistent, "Alright, alright!" Putting him down he dashed off about twenty paces before stopping and looking back expectantly.

Harry sighed, what was he getting himself into this time? "I'm coming." Seeing he was, the gargoyle gave a yip and began trotting across the plane. Broad, vast, and endless.

For a time, they traveled in silence. Harry considered talking to his guide, but he was hesitant. He didn't know if he could trust him and beyond that, he seemed a simple little thing, persistently single minded. It was unlikely he'd learn anything useful from such a conversation.

But, as minutes became hours, and the silence stretched on and on like the never-ending expanse, it stopped feeling like a 'waste' of time and more like the only way to pass it.

"So, where are we going?" he asked finally.

"Gonna see da boss!" said the pup excitedly.

"Of course." One track mind, "And where is the boss?"

"This way."

If there'd been a wall near, he would have been beating his head against it, "And just how far this way is he?"

The little rock dog stopped, looking back at Harry perplexed, as though the question made no sense. "Boss is dis way. I find him."

"I'm sure you will," though he really wasn't. "But how long is that going to take? How far away is he?"

Again the stone pup stared, and Harry wondered if he even understood the concept of time. Would an elemental? Was time even a thing in this place?

"Boss not far," he said suddenly. "Very far. Boss is everywhere. We find him when he want us to find him." Satisfied with his explanation the gargoyle grinned and began walking again.

But Harry didn't. He was too busy coming to terms with the ramifications of what the little dog had just said. He'd find 'da boss' when he felt like being found. When the hell was that going to be?

A sudden rumbling shook the ground and Harry thought he was about to find out. He wasn't. A long string of boulders erupted out of the cracking earth, sending the gargoyle pup scampering backwards.

"Not da boss. Not da boss!" he yowled, hiding, shaking behind Harry as the head of the giant rock snake turned to glare at them.

The enormous boulder serpent moved with surprising grace and fluidity, like one would expect of a real snake. It had no fangs as they saw when it opened its beak like mouth and roared. The sound had the same bone shaking quality of the other elemental but lacked power. Harry barely shifted back, though the gargoyle was properly cowed and whimpered piteously.

"What we do?" he cried like a frightened child.

While Harry considered and the rock snake glared, the earth cracked again, and several others crawled from beneath the barren plane to join them. They were not so large as the rock snake, more single boulders rather than a string of them.

Their surface was covered in dull jutting spikes, all but their face, arms and legs. The latter two were composed of a series of smaller rocks linked to emulate a crude facsimile of hands and feet. They made up for this by having four arms rather than the standard two. Three of these crawled from the ground and turned malicious smirking faces on the druid and his quivering companion.

This steeled Harry's resolve. There was no cover, nowhere they might try and hide, and even if they tried to run, where would they go. For that matter, what was to stop more of them from just popping out of the ground.

"Fight it is," and he knew just the form.

He must have looked quite the fool, clenching and grunting like he was. Fortunately, for his pride, it didn't take long for him to figure out something was wrong, and he wasn't turning into a big hulking troll. "Shit!"

The gargoyle whimpered at his explicative, "What we do?"

What else? "Run!"

The burst to motion was simultaneous, like runners on their marks hearing the sound of a gun. The rock snake lunged like a viper even as Harry turned on his heel and fled, the gargoyle already half a length ahead.

The round elementals toddled after them, picking up speed before drawing in their limbs and rolling, increasing velocity with alarming haste. "Oh, gimme a break!"

Harry dodged right and left as the rolling wreckers tried to flatten him. At one point the rock snake dove underground, the sail on top of its head knifing through the earth like a shark.

The chase came to an end when, yet another elemental erupted from the ground. It wasn't big, its body only the size of Harry's head. But its two fists were each nearly as large as its body and it shot out of the ground with a magnificent uppercut.

Harry tasted blood as he was knocked on his back, jaw ringing like a bell. The rock snake took advantage of his abrupt halt to explode from the ground and encircle him in its stony coil. On the bright side, it kept the rolling wreckers from getting to him, but not the punchy rock.

The gargoyle came to his rescue in that regard, grabbing the comparably sized elemental by the arm and tugging him away from Harry.

Harry was grateful but barely felt it with the stone serpent looming over him, taunting, teasing. He hadn't felt this helpless since watching Dumbledore and Voldemort duel in the ministry atrium. What was he supposed to do against something like that?

He couldn't turn into the troll, for reasons he hadn't the time to ponder. His enemy was as big as the basilisk, if the basilisk had skin made of stone. How was he to fight something like that. All he'd do is scrape the skin off his knuckles against its coarse stony hide it… wait a second. Skin… stone…

"Duh!" it wasn't like he'd done it just the previous night or anything.

Sensing him hesitate, the rock snake came, bearing down on him like a hammer to an anvil. Stony hide met stony hide as Harry grabbed the creature by its crushing beak. It wasn't enough, the rock snake was bigger and heavier than the big handed elemental.

Resisting the force for less than a second, the earth beneath his feet cracked and he was hurled aside while the rock snake smashed headfirst into the ground.

Skipping like a stone on a pond he bounced over the thick coils of the rocky serpent and cratered into the hard, flat earth. Groaning but mostly unhurt he tried to sit up only to be bowled over by one of the rolling wreckers.

And if that wasn't enough, he caught on its dull spiky surface and went for a short ride as the tire to its wheel. This ended when he shook loose and went flying into the air once again.

Doing a header into the ground, he flag-poled for a second, utterly disoriented, "I wonder if the others are having this much fun," he grumbled, pulling his head out of the ground just in time to be run over again.

…

"We need to go!"

"We can't just leave!"

"Oh brother."

She'd seen people argue before, but these two took it to a whole other level. Mowgli, sitting next to her, looked like he wished he'd never found the caravan.

"Do you think they might kill each other?" Sorsha said conversationally.

"I should hope you would be prepared to step in should it come to that," said Vargas with a gimlet eye.

Sorsha shrugged noncommittally. Merle was almost certain she would, it just wasn't in her nature to pretend she cared. Merle was having a hard time caring herself. They were wasting time screaming at each other, faces so close they could start kissing at any second.

Hmm… idea, "Vargas, can I borrow your shield for a second."

The paladin gave her an odd look but acquiesced, handing her his shield which she used as an attention getting device.

*BAM*

Right on top of their heads.

"Do I have your attention?" she asked saccharine sweetly.

"What the hell!" exclaimed Ron while Hermione just glared and rubbed her head.

"Look, we're wasting time. The longer we stand here and argue the further away that caravan gets!"

"We can't go!" Hermione shouted. "What will Harry think if he comes back and finds us gone?"

"I think you mean 'when' he comes back," said Mowgli, horrifying Hermione when she realized what she'd said.

"When he gets back," said Ron, "he'll come find us. He's not a baby."

"And how will he know where we are?" Hermione demanded. "He won't. He'll wander off and we'll never see him again. I'm not going. I'm staying right here."

"You are going," said Merle, "I'm staying."

It was comical to see Hermione too shocked to even speak. Merle could tell Ron agreed, though he tried to hide it, poorly.

"Are you sure?" asked Vargas.

Merle nodded, "I know better than anyone what I'm capable of. If we run into that dragon again, these claws aren't going to do much."

"But," stammered Hermione, "how will 'you' find us?"

"I know!" said Ron. "The fairies," who perked up when they realized they were being spoken of. "One of them can come with us and when Harry gets back, they can use her to find us, like with the pirates, right?"

The fairies nodded excitedly and after a brief discussion one of them came to sit on Ron's shoulder.

"Well alright, any other objections?" it was an open question though she was staring directly at Hermione.

The girl clearly did but couldn't find the words to express it, so she just pouted.

"Then let us be on our way," said Vargas. "Once you return my shield."

Merle looked at the shield still in her hands then placed it over her head, "But what if it rains again?"


	8. Chapter 07

Encounter Random?  
Chapter 07

…

Dismal, cold, and gray, the sky was a perfect reflection of the burned, decimated village. Another burned and decimated village.

"Looks like she's been here," said Ron, poking at a charred doorframe, causing it to collapse into ash and cinders.

"I don't understand why she'd doing this," said Hermione. "What could she possibly gain from this, this slaughter!"

Slaughter may have been overdramatic. As with the first, there was no sign of life, nor the remnants of. Unlike the first, there was not enough left of this village to hide even a small pack of zombies.

"I suspect it is not her own purpose that drives this, but that of her unknown master." Despite the apparent lack of threat, Vargas remained alert, shield ready and sword in hand.

"This fire wasn't recent," said Sorsha, inspecting a burnt timber. "Several days at least. Definitely before the other one."

"You think she just burned everything from wherever she started down to where they ambushed us?" asked Ron.

"Who knows," she said, carelessly tossing the timber away. "We know next to nothing about these people except they want us dead. I wouldn't even begin to guess at their motives."

"Maybe you slept with her husband," Hermione joked, surprising everyone.

"She should've kept a better eye on him," the warlock grinned wickedly.

Vargas shook his head and silently prayed for patience, "Did you see others like this Mowgli?"

The small boy nodded, "One other before we reach the coastline and find the road."

"Well, I hope it's as 'cheerful' as this one," said Ron sarcastically.

The group turned to leave when a cold breeze blew through the empty town. Cold, bitter, and with a strange hint of menace. "Does anyone else feel like someone just walked over their grave?"

It wasn't a grave the large shadow passed over that had all of them looking up. Hideous faces and long flashing talons they descended, sending a pulse of fear through the party.

Ron was the first to react, lashing out with his sword in a panic. The harpies screamed, a horrid sound, something between an eagle and a woman scorned. The harangue prompted the others to action, but the harpies were already on them.

Mowgli shrank and disappeared between scrambling feet. Iron talons scraped against Vargas shield and grasped at his flailing sword. Neither Hermione or Sorsha had the space to work their magic and dove to the ground in order to avoid being slashed to ribbons.

Vile screams and the ring of steel were all any could here for a time. Several of the harpies landed out of reach of the blades and tried to flank them, drawing short, crude swords as they approached the preoccupied men and cowering women.

Their advance was halted when a mongoose became a wolf midleap and tore into the nearest. She was so surprised she never even raised her sword before his jaws clamped round her throat like a vice and savagely ripped it from her neck.

The sudden and vicious death of one of their own startled the grounded harpies who quickly took to the air again. Not quick enough for one, caught by a bounding leap and dragged screaming to the ground by the wing.

Her agonized cries drew the attention of those still in the air. Waffling between their sister and their quarry proved a fatal distraction, one missing the deflect of an incoming sword strike lost two of three toes.

Her wailing as blood spurted from the new holes brought a smile to the gingers face, "How ya like that!"

She didn't, not at all. Screaming commands, her sisters abandoned their other ventures and dogpiled Ron. "Hey! No fair! Get off!"

Their assault was fast and brutal and before anyone could stop them, Ron Weasley flew without the assistance of a broom. He would later comment on the poor quality of harpy powered flight, but at the time he was far less civil with his language.

"Leggo! Get off! Stupid, ugly slag!"

Rising into the air with a harpy on either arm, Ron cursed and swore for all he was worth. His sword had been lost in the melee and the higher they rose the less he felt like fighting them.

"We have to stop them!" Hermione cried.

"Can you hit them from here?"

"Not without hitting him too!" said Sorsha.

"Vargas!" shouted Mowgli, running up while wiping blood from his face. "Give me a boost."

Transforming again into the tiny mongoose, Vargas understood what he wanted and reeled back. Dashing at the waiting paladin the little mongoose hurled himself into the shield which then hurled him into the air like a rocket.

He'd just begun bleeding acceleration when the vulture began pumping its massive wings in pursuit. The harpies saw him coming and a couple broke off to intercept.

They hadn't closed half the distance when they were bombarded by flaming projectiles. Small stones encased in fire exploded like grenades on contact. One harpy took three such projectiles in quick succession, shredding her chest and burning off most of one wing.

The other was still airborne with only minor burns when Mowgli collided with her, executing a daring midair morph. Canine fangs did their work and strong doggy legs pushed off the flailing, dying body to sprout wings again and continue the chase.

The fleeing harpies observed the death of yet more of their sisters and in a fit of pique they waited till the vulture drew close before flinging their captive at him. Ron screamed as gravity took hold and pulled him faster and faster toward the earth. Screams and profanity were lost on the wind and Mowgli dove at the swiftly cursing warrior.

Facing downward, staring at the quickly rising earth, Ron felt the vulture collide with his back. Strong talons screeched against his armor and a sudden jerk knocked the wind from his screaming lungs.

Strong as he was, Mowgli could not lift the ginger, even had he not been wearing armor. Wings beat with frantic strength only managed to slow his descent to something survivable. Both boys hit the ground rolling, coming to a painful but non-fatal stop.

Lying on his back groaning, Ron watched the harpies disappear into the cloudy gray sky, "These women are gonna kill me."

"Ron! Ron are you alright?"

The youngest Weasley son endured his friend's examination, even if it was a little more thorough than it needed to be. The jungle boy had shaken off his landing with the sort of quickness only the young can and was enduring Sorsha's coddling with the appropriate amount of stoicism for his age.

"Wonder if Harry's having this much fun?"

…

"Shit! Shit! Shit!"

"Not da boss! Not Da BOSS!"

Harry was not having fun. He was having the very opposite of fun. Not fun, unfun… whatever, it wasn't good, but he was having it.

Barely scraping through the fight with the rock snake and his minions, Harry and guide had gotten approximately two feet when their next challenger introduced himself.

A massive wall with an angry squarish face rose, monolithic, before them. "You shall not pass!" he'd boomed. Harry had been too tired to be impressed and simply tried to go around him. The wall had furiously demanded he not, but it wasn't till he was trudging around the side that the hand came down.

The force of contact catapulted him into the air and got his blood pumping again. Fully awake, the hand was no match for his agility, massive but slow, he got around the wall who raged and cursed impotently as Harry walked away smirking.

His good mood didn't last. His next attackers were quick, quicker than he was. They were the size of large dogs, with bodies covered in hard sand colored spikes with long slashing claws. The face reminded him of a shrew he'd once seen, but these were no tiny placid burrowers. They were large, vicious burrowers.

Their first attack, a complete surprise, opened wounds across Harry's chest, staunched only thanks to the reapplication of his stone skin which also saved him from a fatal follow-up.

Their long, powerful claws chipped bits off his defense with every pass. Their speed defied reason. Something moving underground should not be so fast, or undetectable.

But as his battle focus set in, that strange clarity that only came when his life was on the line, he realized their attack wasn't as undetectable as he thought. The tell was faint, more feeling than anything. Eventually he realized what he was feeling was the vibrations of the ground.

He'd not bothered with his boots when he got up, walking around barefoot since the morning. The soreness of doing this had distracted him at first, now it was saving him. He caught a slashing claw as it knifed through the air and used the momentum to turn and hurl it at an incoming attack.

The two creatures squealed furiously on collision but went silent when they all felt the tremor that preceded the next contender. As the two spiked slashers moved through the earth like a fish through water, the appearance of a giant sand shark should not have been such a surprise. But it was.

Fifteen feet long with limestone gray skin and eyes like polished coal. Its mouth was full of several circles or razor-sharp revolving teeth. Sparking like flints with every revolution they rent the first slasher to sand and rubble before they could so much as blink.

The second one tried to run but this just drew the beast's attention. A wail was drowned by the sound of grinding gravel, then it was just the three of them.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!"

He was terrified, too scared to even move. Everything up to this point had been dangerous, but nothing he couldn't handle with a little thought, a bit or running, and a lot of cursing. What was he supposed to do with this?

The gargoyle whimpered, huddling behind his feet. He knew better than Harry the dangers of this place, which gave Harry no confidence. Granted, he'd cowered every other time they'd run into something so it could just be he was a coward.

The grinding sand shark circled them with the casual patience of a born and bred hunter. Harry watched the beast intently, even as it watched him. There was no obvious weakness, no twitch or tell that might signal a vulnerability.

This was it. He was going to die.

The idea made him angry. He didn't want to die. That had been true every time he'd skirted the razor's edge of oblivion, but this was different. Or maybe it was just he who was different.

He'd been through a lot to get to this point. And this was how it ended? No. Absolutely not.

He cast the stone skin spell again, adding a harsh, cracked layer over the one that had been shaved down by the slashers. The shark saw this and accelerated, preparing to attack.

"Run," Harry ordered the gargoyle, "as fast as you can. Go!"

The little rock dog yelped and ran. The motion drew the shark's attention and it followed, ignoring Harry in favor of easier prey. Harry waited till it lined up its attack and began to charge before launching his own.

There was nothing fancy or clever to it, he simply took a page out of Francis book. Ramming the shark like a freight train he pushed until it was flopping angrily on its side. The underbelly was chalky white stone, one hit proving its durability, or lack thereof. Harry went to work.

The shark flailed and screamed with its gyrating but all for naught. Its struggled weakened, as did Harry's assault. The shark was as good as done but so was he, his arms hanging like anvils off his shoulders.

He thought he might just let the thing go when the choice was taken out of his hands. Two massive boulder coils erupted from the ground, flailing like giant tentacles. Together they wrapped around the decimated shark and dragged it into the hard, hungry earth.

Unsure how long he stood and stared, Harry flopped over, panting, his stone skin dusting away like sand on the wind.

"You okay?" his guide asked, trotting up and sitting like a good boy.

"No," said Harry. His chest wound, while miraculously sealed, still hurt like hell. As did all his other accumulated bruises. His feet were ready to fall off, and his tank was empty. He had nothing left. Even the prospect of sitting up seemed an impossibility.

"We go?"

Harry shook his head weakly, "No! I got nothin left. I'm done."

The gargoyle looked at him oddly, sniffing at his forehead, "Maybe the other one can help."

Huh? "What other one?"

"The other one. In here," he said, pawing Harry's scar with his stony paw.

Harry stared, exhausted but also gob smacked. He hadn't used the lightning since he'd met the gargoyle. How could he possibly know, and correctly make the connection to his scar. As if sensing his thoughts, the rock dog told him.

"Da boss made me a guide," he said. "I see, see real good, smell too, smell both of you. You together, but separate. One and two."

Round yet square, Harry thought, "Whatever you say. I don't know what you think I'm going to do here. Whatever it is I've never talked to it. I don't even know why or how it got in there."

The gargoyle looked ecstatic, "I help!" and before Harry could even think of moving, the stone paw slapped down hard on his scar, and the world exploded.

Everything was wave, power and light. It surged over, around, even through him. He was power, he was it. Then, just as suddenly, he wasn't and he observed the power lift away from his body, taking the form of a great raptor with flashing eyes and slashing talons.

Never had he seen such a creature yet there was an unmistakable feeling of familiarity. The flashing, surging bird knew it too, and when it spoke to him it was in a voice as loud and deep as thunder.

"Long have I awaited your arrival son of the storm!"

"You know me? I know you? But how?"

"The mark upon your brow. I felt it that night, a void, calling, begging to be filled."

"What are you?"

"I am spirit! Elemental, ancient as worlds. I have ridden the storms for time untold, now, I walk this world, with you."

Harry was speechless. The creature had a presence greater than any he'd ever known. Dumbledore and Voldemort together had not been so commanding, and it was living in his scar.

Sensing he was overwhelmed, "Do not dwell on these things here," it thundered. "There will be time later. For now, I will sustain your body as you travel through this realm. Awaken, and continue your journey.

"We will speak again," echoed in his head like a fading thunderclap as he returned to his own body, strength and vitality flowing through him like lightning.

The gargoyle watched, tongue lolling happily as he stood, "We go?"

Eyes glowing faintly, he nodded at his guide, "We go."

…

Merle lay across the mound that had swallowed her friend with a look of absolute concentration.

*Yaaaaaawn*

Or boredom.

"Nothing to report here, keep going."

…

"Where are we going?"

Having passed out of the wood, they found themselves on the beach, high bluffs rising like castle walls on one side while rolling waves advanced and retreated in endless assault on the other.

"The road I saw runs up there," said Mowgli. "We must climb."

"Of great," Ron griped.

"Look, wagons!"

It was impossible to hear them over the crash of the waves but the bright white canvas over each one stood out plainly against the grim gray sky. So did the harpies.

"Heads up!"

The vicious bird women had returned in force, a full dozen dark winged uglies, each carrying a huge stone they dropped as soon as they saw their target. The stones weren't aimed at the party directly. They crashed off the bluffs, loosing smaller stones in a crashing cascading wave.

With little room to maneuver the party ran down the beach to avoid the rockslide. The harpies followed, grabbing loose stones and pelting them at their fleeing prey. The cliffs arched out at the top the further down the beach they went which made it harder for the harpies to get at them. The ugly bird women screamed and raged which drew the attention of a small sea drake.

Salty gray with flecks of blue, the draconic beast shot out of the surf where he'd been idly floating, rocketing into the air and sending the harpies to scatter in his wake.

"You don't suppose he's friendly, do you?" Ron wondered when deep steely eyes turned on them.

"It's just one little drake," said Sorsha, though her confidence sounded a bit hollow.

"Wait, look there!" The bookish warlock pointed emphatically to a small hole in the wall, a hole that seemed to go in quite a way upon further inspection.

"You think it might go up?" asked Ron.

"So long as 'he' can't get in, I don't care," said Hermione, lighting a hand and scurrying inside as the drake bellowed a challenge.

The others quickly followed, huddling close under the illumination cast by the two warlocks.

"Why do I smell fish?"

"We're right next to the ocean Ron."

While this was true it didn't explain the overpowering smell of seafood that grew stronger the further in they went. The floor was also strangely even and smooth. Nature rarely shaped things so precisely, so consciously.

"Hey, did you see that?" a shadow darting in the darkness ahead of them.

"What was that?"

"A rat," said Hermione.

"It looks like the tunnel opens up down there," said Vargas, squinting into the shadows.

His words were prophetic, when not thirty paces later the tunnel expanded into a large chamber. The party froze.

Not because the crushing claustrophobia that had been slowly growing was suddenly lifted. Not because the room generated its own illumination, revealing walls covered in pearls, coral and shimmering shells. Not even because of the mannish rat creature that stood at the center of the room, beady eyes glinting in the subterranean glow.

No, it was his three dozen friends with their hands full of every manner of sharp, pointy implement that caused them to stop in their tracks.

"You were right Hermione. It was a rat."

"Great. Hooray for me," she said glumly.


	9. Chapter 08

Encounter Random?  
Chapter 08

…

The moon was high, but Merle could not see it. Heavy clouds blotted the sky and cast a pallor of deepest darkness. From the first-floor window of Harry's tower the cat girl watched, tail flicking anxiously.

The mound was still, silent as it had been since the others had gone after the caravan. A decision she was beginning to regret.

"Bored."

The tedium was wearing on her. She was a people person, she needed to be around people. Not wanted, needed. Isolation, even in relatively small amounts, did strange things to her mind. If it went on too long, she'd go crackers.

"Hm, crackers. You think he has any crackers?"

Francis snorted and stared with his blank, glassy eyes.

"Your right, only one way to know for sure."

Bouncing up from her seat she sauntered to the kitchen and proceeded to ransack the place in search of crackers. "They better get back here soon or there isn't going to be any food left."

…

"I'm hungry," words familiar to Ron Weasley's lips. Never before had they been spoken through the bars of a cage.

The sea cave rats, after disarming and binding them, had dragged them before their shaman, a fat pink eyed albino. Shaman, Ron learned, was a fancy name for chef, as the questions he was asked all involved on how they should be prepared and eaten. Being the sea rats were primarily fish eaters, man flesh was not something the shaman was well versed in.

So, they'd been thrown in cages while the shaman meditated on the problem. Given the smell of the bottle he pulled as he prepared to 'meditate', Ron was pretty sure he'd divined the meaning of that word as well.

The cages were all different sizes. Ron, Vargas and Sorsha had been shoved into the largest while Hermione had been forced to share a cage with something smooth, and slimy, and dead. She was none too pleased. Mowgli however had gotten the worst of it, stuffed into a hanging bird type cage that could barely hold him.

They'd been sitting in their cramped accommodations for hours. Sorsha snored quietly as she leaned against the massive back of the paladin who sat, cross legged, lightly dozing.

Over in her cage, Hermione was huddled in the corner farthest from her cell mate drifting in and out of sleep fitfully. But Ron couldn't sleep. He was hungry, and he could never sleep when he was hungry.

Being that he could not sleep, or satiate his hunger, his mind wandered, wandered to many places, wondered on many questions. How was Harry? Where was that stupid fairy? Was Merle at that very moment eating all the food in the kitchen.

Almost absently he wondered if their guard had any food in one of those pouches on his belt. Obviously, they hadn't been left alone in the cages. A single guard stood sentry. Ron thought he looked to be fighting sleep as well, or more specifically losing the fight. Strange as his eyes seemed, they were familiar enough for Ron to tell they were glazed, unfocused.

If he flicked a rock the vermin would probably jump. Or so he thought, but then the rat man moved. It was just a twitch at first, a twitch of the nose. Then he flexed his hands and swished his tail.

Taking the small blade from his belt he approached the large cage and quietly cut the cords that held it closed. He then did the same to the cage holding Hermione before approaching Mowgli who sat stone still, unmoving, unblinking.

The sea rat cut the cords and opened the cage laying his blade in the small boy's lap before stretching out his neck. Like a striking viper the blade was in his hand and Mowgli opened the rat's throat. A startle squeak gurgled out before the rat fell to the floor, gushing his life's blood onto the cold merciless stone.

Ron gaped, shocked at the sudden, unexpected violence. Mowgli, who'd committed the violence, carefully crawled out of his cage, dropping silently to the floor and narrowly avoiding the pool of blood.

Padding over to the cage, he opened the door and gestured for Ron to come, but Ron didn't. he was still stuck on the dead rat and the bloody blade in the jungle boy's hand.

"Come, hurry," he hastened.

"You, killed him. He was helping us, and you killed him."

Mowgli sighed impatiently, "Was not his choice," he said. "I rode him, made him do this."

"You can do that!" Ron squeaked.

"Only animals," Mowgli assured. "Wasn't sure it would work with these. Had to be careful or would have done sooner."

Ron was still having trouble grasping what he'd just witnessed, but the big man behind him rousing pushed his concerns to the backburner. "Are we going?" he rumbled.

Mowgli nodded emphatically, "Yes, quickly!" before darting over to Hermione.

The paladin stretched which tousled Sorsha who moaned in her sleep, burrowing deeper into his back. "Time to go," he said.

The warlock, still asleep, mumbled something, wrapping her arms around the big man, "oo shou buy me inner firs," she slurred, giggling girlishly.

The paladin sighed, trying to rouse the overly amorous woman while Ron crawled out of the cage and stretched. Hermione quickly joined him, glad to be free and away from 'it'.

"Have a nice nap?"

His female friend scowled in an almost McGonagall fashion, "This isn't funny Ron."

It wasn't, but that was not going to stop him from making jokes. Fred and George must be rubbing off on him.

"We must go," said Mowgli urgently. "Their nose is keen. They will smell the blood soon and come."

"Then let us be off," said Vargas, carrying a groggily mumbling Sorsha over one shoulder.

"Which way?"

Mowgli gave a cursory sniff down each tunnel. Shaking his head, he shifted and tried again. Silently, the wolf padded down the left and the rest followed.

"How long do you suppose before they find 'him' and raise the alarm?" asked Hermione.

"Just lucky there's no wind underground," said Ron.

…

"Bloody, buggering wind!"

The gargoyle at his feet whimpered his agreement as they trudged through the vicious, blinding sandstorm. It had quite literally come out of nowhere. One second, they were walking along the endless open plain, next they were being assaulted by waves of grit, grinding against them like sandpaper.

Harry had been forced to don his stone skin just to keep from losing the regular set.

It was impossible to tell how long they'd marched through the storm. Equally impossible to know how long he'd been there. He'd no sense of the passage of time and no way to track it.

Could've been hours. Could've been days, or weeks. Every encounter served to throw off his perception. Lifetimes passing in an instant as he fought for his life. He knew intellectually no single battle was likely to have lasted much more than ten minutes, but with no way to measure it, intellectually, it didn't matter.

"We need to find shelter! Is there anywhere we can hide from this for a while!"

The gargoyle shook his head, Harry wasn't surprised. It had been foolishly optimistic. There was nothing, nothing on the surface at least. Nothing but wind and sand blowing across a vast empty plain forever and ever.

Then a deep, heavy groan erupted out of the sand and blasted him like a cannon. The gargoyle yelped in surprise as he was knocked back by the powerful sand blast, rolling and skipping like a stone before coming to rest face down.

Now it was his turn to groan. Why did this keep happening to him?

"You okay?" the gargoyle asked sympathetically.

"I'll live," for now.

Picking himself up he discovered the sand blast had entirely smoothed his chest. Hairline cracks hinted at the squishy flesh beneath, "That was close." A little more and it might have gone clear through him.

Another angry groan rang through the air and Harry tensed. The timbre was different to the last one, as was the means of assault, a huge boulder flying through the blowing sand.

Snatching up the gargoyle, Harry hurled himself out of the line of fire. The boulders impact flung him through the air and again he skipped and rolled, grinding his butt smooth as he came to a slow screeching halt.

"This is getting old." Tired of being thrown around by forces he couldn't even see, Harry waited for the next groan. Orienting on it, and dodging another sand blast, Harry marched through the storm in search of his foe, or foe's as it turned out.

He found the two elementals with surprisingly little trouble. They weren't trying to hide, quite to the contrary. The spiky outcropping with the three legs was engaged in combat with a massive blocky hippopotamus with the four sand geysers on its back.

The hippo blasted the outcropping with a powerful stream of sand which it endured, deflecting some of it off its angular body. With an earth-shaking moan it fired a barrage of stones from its mouth, much like the elemental he'd summoned had done. The rocks hammered the hippo causing it to toss up its massive head, throwing the final stone out into the storm.

"So that's it." They weren't attacking him. He was just collateral damage.

"We go?" asked the gargoyle, pacing skittishly.

Nodding, he had just begun to turn when the earth shook violently, and a terrible roar split the air. The beast seemed to just appear, walking out of the storm on legs longer than most houses were tall. Its long narrow snout was full of sharp ripping teeth and its head was adorned with a crown of long sharp spikes.

It had no wings, but Harry knew a dragon when he saw one, and this one was pretty hard to miss. The smaller quarreling elementals cowered but it paid them no mind, its attention fully on the other form that emerged from the storm.

It towered over them all like a true titan. Six stories at least, its body was smooth stone, androgynously human with a head like the famous statues of Easter Island. The dragon bellowed its challenge and surged forward with surprising speed for such a massive creature.

The Easter man raised a mighty first and struck the dragon a hammer blow between the eyes. Its charge faltered but did not cease and it took the Easter man in the midsection.

The Easter man bent double, grasping the dragon and planting his feet, attempting to halt its backward advance. With an earth-shaking moan the Easter man lifted the dragon and threw it, smashing the earth with its landing like some angry god had flung his fist at the ground.

The dragon was swift to rally and came at the Easter man again, but Harry didn't see it, he was too busy running like death itself were on his tail. Or a pair of giants was duking it out in his general vicinity, take your pick.

Constantly looking back to make sure they weren't battling in his direction, he never saw the edge till he was almost over it, "Shiiiiiiit!"

Not knowing what to do, he dropped hard to the ground, digging his stony hands into the earth as his body went sliding off. Time slowed as his fingers struggled at the edge, inch by inch of earth giving way before there was nothing left between him and open space.

He lurched to a halt when a canine head appeared out of the sand and latched onto his arm. It was a near thing, his weight and momentum dragging the gargoyle past the edge of his front paws, but, with a herculean effort his claws grasped earth and halted them both.

Harry could hear the ground strain under their combined weight and was quick to scramble back up with the gargoyle's help. Panting, Harry stared at the little rock dog who sat happily staring back.

"You saved me." The gargoyle nodded. "Thank you."

"I'm a guide. I guide you here."

"Here? You mean, we're here?"

The gargoyle nodded exuberantly, but Harry did not share his enthusiasm as he looked over the bottomless edge and listened to the titanic battle being waged much too nearby, "Here?"

"I guided you," the gargoyle barked.

Great, "Now what?"


	10. Chapter 09

Encounter Random?  
Chapter 09

…

Screaming. They were screaming. A horrible high pitch sound of absolute terror. It was an inhuman sound, a sound that never passed the lips of man, and it was choked, choked by smoke and fire.

The rat men scurried and scampered in a blind panic. Acrid smoke filled their labyrinthine tunnels, blinding them both literally and metaphorically. The horrid stench of burning fur and flesh filled their sensitive noses, leaving them to feel their way as the frightened cries of their fellows made hearing it a fruitless endeavor.

None knew how the fires had started, save for those who now fueled them with their bodies. And by the time the death toll was taken, the captured humans would be long forgotten, along with decades of clan lore, stored in the head of their shaman who would be found among the corpses burnt.

As for the humans, by sheer chance they happened upon the single tunnel that led to the top of the cliffs. Steep and narrow, they were forced to go one at a time, climbing more than walking. A simple task for a rat with their grasping claws, less so for a soft footed boot wearing human.

Mowgli was the first to breach, his scrawny scrambling frame scurrying out of the cramped dark tunnel and into the dismal clouded light of day. Hermione came next, then Ron, Sorsha, and finally Vargas who grunted and growled, wedging himself through a hole not meant for a thing his size.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed. "Whose idea was it to set those rats on fire?"

"I'm never going to get that smell out of my nose," Hermione complained, futilely beating the dirt off her hopelessly soiled clothes.

"No more holes," grumbled Vargas, stretching all the kinks he'd accumulated forcing his way through the tunnel.

"Look on the bright side," said Sorsha, "if you ever wondered what it felt like to be a mole, now you know."

The three complainers eyed the warlock as if to question if she had any good sense in her head. "Why does she get to be so chipper?" said Hermione.

"Because she slept through most of our escape," said Vargas, who'd been the one to carry her.

"And may I just say you have the most comfortable shoulder I've ever been hauled around on," she said with a saucy wink. "I mean that, really."

Vargas rolled his eyes and grumbled something about oversexed women under his breath. Sorsha tittered at his belligerence. Ron and Hermione sighed.

"Does anyone know where we are?" asked Ron.

They were in a forested area, but the strong smell of salt, which just barely overpowered the smell of smoke, told them they weren't far from the water. The sky was cast in rolling shades of gray and gray, with no sign of the sun it was impossible to even get a proper baring.

"At least we're not still underground" said Ron, looking for the silver lining.

"No, but we've lost the caravan," said Hermione. "It must be miles from here by now."

The realization they'd gone through this entire ordeal for nothing put them all in a sour mood. They were all scowling when Mowgli burst through the bushes and excitedly declared, "I found the road!"

"WHAT!"

The manically grinning boy motioned for them to follow. Exhausted bodies protested but after a stern rebuke they hauled themselves up and hurried after him.

It wasn't but a few minutes later they broke through the trees onto an old stone road. Its age was evident in the multitude of cracks and divots but despite all that it was still usable. The muddy wagon tracks made that abundantly clear.

"How far ahead do you spose they are?" wondered Ron.

"Hard to say," said Vargas. "They weren't moving fast, not even a fast walk."

"More like sleepwalking," said Sorsha. "That'd be the guise."

"Can we catch them?" The question on everyone's mind. After everything they'd already been through, to just give up and go home, the idea was unfathomable.

"Mowgli, scout ahead. See if you can't find us a shortcut, or at the very least, find out where this road goes."

The jungle boy nodded at the paladin and with a parting bark, dashed down the road as fast as his four canine legs could carry him.

"Come on."

"We're certain this is a good idea?" said Sorsha, falling in behind the big man with the other two trudging along after.

"I'm almost positive this is a terrible idea," said Vargas, "but we're never going to get to the bottom of all this if we turn back now."

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," she quoted. "What about you two. What do you think?"

"I'm hungry."

Sorsha chuckled at the youngest Weasley son. Hermione growled, then so did her stomach, only more loudly, which caused her to blush like a tomato. "I guess I'm hungry too," she mumbled, mortified.

They'd only been able to retrieve a small amount of the food they'd brought with them. The rest had already been eaten or distributed among their captors before they managed to find it.

"When Mowgli returns, we'll take a short break and eat," said Vargas, showing no outward signs he, himself was hungry.

"You think he'll catch up to them?" Ron asked Hermione.

The brainy warlock shrugged, "I'm actually more curious what we'll do if 'we' catch up to them," she said.

"Hmm. Ya think Harry's having this much fun?"

Sigh! "One can only hope."

…

Harry was not having fun, but he also wasn't being chased or assaulted by rock monsters. When you look at it that way it really could have been worse.

The sandstorm continued to blow unabated, and the warring titans continued to battle in the distance. The crash and boom of their struggle echoed across the plane and rang in Harry's ear. For all he showed you wouldn't have known it.

Covered in his stone skin he sat at the edge with the gargoyle by his side, immobile, still as stone. He'd been there for what felt like days, could have been hours. It no longer mattered.

He'd reached the end, the edge of the world. He was 'here' as his guide had so excitedly exclaimed. But what was 'here'? Nothing. He'd come to the edge of the world to find nothing. Vast, endless, nothing. What a gyp.

At first, he'd thought there must be some sort of trick to it, something he wasn't seeing. He'd walked the edge for what had to be miles, finding nothing but a growing sense of discouragement which most will tell you is a terrible thing to find and almost impossible to lose.

It seemed a cruel sort of trick. He'd bested the elemental in his world, so it had brought him to its own. It had brought him 'here', to the edge of hopelessness. Well played rock man. Well played.

He'd sat, he'd stared, he'd listened to the seemingly endless conflict between the dragon and the Easter man. At no point did he consider throwing himself off the edge. He may have been prone to brooding, but suicide was not in his nature.

Lucky, given his track record.

As he sat, he became aware of a vague phenomenon. Rather than his mind wondering and wandering as it was prone to do when idle, his thoughts became sparse. There was no there, no then, only the here and now.

The longer he sat the less aware of himself he became, or perhaps it was the other way around. The combat of the warring giants became something else; not sound, but movement, movement that felt like a part of him was moving, pressing, grinding.

A stray thought meandered into his head, a moment from non-magical school. Dudley was bored, making spitballs, but Harry was fascinated. The teacher was explaining plate tectonics. The earth, that thing that seemed so stable, so immovable, was in fact constantly moving. Sliding, grinding, pressing against each other, raising valleys into mountains and turning mountains into seas. Amazing.

And he felt it, the titanic forces of the earth, battling one another, rising and falling and constantly grinding. He felt it. He was it.

Eyes closed, sound became touch, and he felt it, all of it, the entire plane. The experience blew his mind, blasting the poor thought back from whence it came, twice. The whole thing was alive with movement as elementals of every shape, size, and description moved against one another. Those on the surface had been but a few, pushed out for a time.

He understood what he'd thought at first was wrong, it wasn't an empty plane. It was just another edge. He was already over the edge, always had been, he just hadn't realized it.

The thought echoed through him, brought him back to himself. Eyes opened like stone rolled away and he instantly knew something had changed. The sandstorm was gone. The battling giants too. All was still, and quiet, and yet, different.

There, in the distance, something loomed. A mountain, or mountains. It was too far away to see, but that was alright, he was going that way. That's what his squirmy, wiggly guide seemed to indicate.

A small smile cracked his stony features and he followed the excitable rock dog. Distance disappeared and quite suddenly he was standing before a small mountain, a small mountain with a face.

The face blinked slowly, ponderously. After his out of body experience, Harry felt as though his own face might be acting in a very similar fashion.

"Many people have put on that ring, seeking the power to shape the world. Arrogant, prideful, foolish. It has been many wearers since the last who made it this far."

The deep gravely voice reverberated through everything when he spoke. It was familiar as Harry knew the elemental before him was the very same he had first summoned, yet different. Gone was the disdain, the dismissive rebuff. When he spoke now, it was like a tired old man, greeting an unexpected guest. Unexpected, but not unwelcome.

Strange though, despite his magnitude he was still shorter than the Easter man, smaller than the dragon. Yet, his presence, seemed so much greater, and Harry attempted to express as much, albeit clumsily.

The mountain was unperturbed by his fumbling, "Size does not always equal strength." The earth shook when he raised his two stony hands, "These hands, they are good hands, strong hands. In times before, times forgotten, these hands held up worlds."

A sad look crossed his face, and he slowly lowered the mighty appendages back to the earth, "They are gone now. Gone and forgotten, but I remain. More steady than the mountains, I remain."

Harry gaped at this newest revelation. And he'd thought the dungeon master was old, "I'm sorry."

A small smile cracked the sorrowful face, "All things made, must one day be unmade. Every mountain that seeks the sky must inebitably crumble into the sea, but you did not come here to listen to this old one ramble."

Raising a single hand, he reached out and touched the immobile druid. At the moment of contact, Harry was overwhelmed by, what he would later understand was knowledge. Not a knowledge of words, no endless scroll of text, but a deeper knowing, understanding beyond words. It confused him.

"What was that?" he exclaimed once it had passed and he could brain again.

"I have whispered a secret in your ear," the mountain said conspiratorially. "Now, it will be up to you to master it."

"I… I don't know what to say."

The mountain smiled, "You will."

…

"Have you got anyyyyyyyy, two's!"

Francis stared back glassy eyed and snorted.

"Gah! Go fish again!"

The crazed feline femme was reaching for her card when the earth shook, and the great maw opened. Calmly walking from the toothy earth, he was followed by an ugly quadruped of some kind. She barely noticed it, all that mattered was, "HARRY!" was back.

The druid sucked wind when the cat girl plowed into him and began purring up a storm, "Merle! Merle are you alright?"

"I missed you," she cried. "Don't ever leave me alone again."

"Alone? Where's everyone else?"

"Mowgli found the caravan and they all went after it," she said through her sniffles.

"And they left you here?"

"They left me alone!" she cried. "I was so lonely, and I waited and waited but you didn't come back and then it rained and I was stuck inside and I tore all the food out of the cupboards and I short sheeted Hermione's bed and I played one hundred games of go fish and I lost every single one and that rabbit is a dirty stinking cheater. I don't know how he'd doing it but I know he'd doing it and, and… don't ever leave me alone again!"

Harry patted the head of the weeping cat girl as he tried to sort out her run-on sentence, "Wait, why did you tear all the food out of the cupboards?"

Sniffle, "I was looking for crackers."

Deciding the cat girl had monopolized their druid long enough, Thistle and Rue zipped up to say hello, tinkling happily and assaulting his face with tiny kisses.

"Alright girls, alright. I'm happy to see you too."

A quick explanation followed their greeting and Harry nodded, "Right. Let's straighten up the tower and get moving."

"We go!" said the gargoyle at his feet excitedly.

"What is that?" said Merle, staring suspiciously at the happy little rock dog.

"Uh, Guide, I suppose," said Harry.

"I'm a guide!"

"Hmm, he looks like a puppy." The gargoyle barked happily. "I hate puppies."

"Oh for cryin out loud." Picking up the scowling cat girl and tucking her under his arm, "Let's go. The sooner we catch up the better."

The fairies nodded and followed their druid happily. The animals too followed, even Francis mustered up the energy to toddle after his druid. It was only the gargoyle, tongue lolling, happily trotting, that Merle took issue with.

"I'm watching you puppy!"

Sigh, "Good grief."


	11. Chapter 10

Encounter Random?  
Chapter 10

…

The light had all but faded from the dismal gray sky and an ever-darkening blanket fell across the road, covering all in inky concealment. Exhausted, the party trudged on, driven by the assurance that they were almost there.

The wolf that was the small jungle boy padded before them, stopping now and again to be sure they were still following.

"Are we there yet?" Ron groaned, shuffling like a barely animate zombie.

Annoyed by his question, Hermione attempted a scathing retort which came out as a barely articulate growl.

The older adventurers were only in mildly better condition. Vargas being of a stoic disposition and Sorsha being just better rested than the others. Still, despite their less than stellar condition, they all saw the glowing ball when it darted out of the woods and halted in front of the wolf.

"Da bloody hell?" not that they necessarily recognized it.

The fairy tinkled excitedly and at rapid speed, attempting to tell everything she'd seen as quickly as possible to a group that couldn't even understand her at normal speed.

"You getting any of this?" Ron asked.

Too tired to be ashamed, Hermione shook her head, "Honestly, I'd actually forgotten she came with us until just now."

Failing at verbal communication, Millet zipped a short distance and beckoned for them to follow. After several false starts, they finally figured out what she wanted and followed her, off the road, down a wide muddy path to a medium sized clearing.

A small thatch roof house stood dark and cold off to one side. To the other, a barn, its door half open.

"I bet they're in there. I got a good feelin," said Ron, so tired he'd gone from sluggish to silly.

Mowgli sniffed at the door before coming back, "There were people here. Maybe an hour ago."

"Where did they go?" asked Vargas.

"Between there and the house."

"So their still here," said Sorsha, lighting one hand, but Mowgli shook his head.

"No one is here. Even the horses are gone," he said.

"We missed them."

"I don't miss them," Ron giggled.

"Which way did they go?" asked Sorsha.

Mowgli shook his head, "There and the house. There are no other trails and they are not here."

"But, that's impossible," snapped Hermione who did not get silly when she was tired.

Mowgli simply shrugged, "I don't know how. I just know no one is here."

A statement that was called into question by a strange, heavy creak from inside the barn. It came and went so quickly, if they hadn't all tensed at the same time, one might have assumed they were hearing things.

"What was that?" said Hermione in a shrill whisper.

"Mowgli, you're certain there is nobody here?" said Vargas, hand firmly on the hilt of his sword.

"No one I could smell," said the jungle boy, tense as a nervous cobra.

They stared at the barn, daring it to do something, but no sound came again. The silence taunted them.

"What're we gonna do?" Ron wondered aloud.

"Burn it down!" said Sorsha.

"Yay!"

"No."

"Aw!"

"There may be clues as to where they went and starting it on fire might well start the whole forest on fire."

"Hmph! Spoilsport," Sorsha pouted.

"We're, we're not going in there?" Even having magical fire powers now, she'd walked into danger too many times to not see an obvious trap.

"We'll need to use one of these as shelter for the night," Vargas reasoned. "Best we be sure neither has any, surprises, before we settle in."

It was a reasonable argument, that didn't mean she wasn't twitching at every tiny nonexistent sound as they crept quietly into the barn.

Three familiar wagons were crowded at the far end, one wedged into the furthest stall, its canvas canopy torn and tattered by the rough treatment that had crammed it into place.

A cool, gentle wind blew in the small side windows, causing the canvas to flap and Hermione to jump. "Would you cut that out," said Ron, "you're makin me nervous."

"Doesn't look like there's anything here anyway," added Sorsha, just before the barn door slammed shut with an ominous boom, like the door of a tomb.

"You were saying?" Hermione moaned as something above them began to emit an eerie glow.

The thing moved with frightful speed, clambering across the ceiling before crashing down right through one of the wagons. The party clustered up as instinctive terror took over.

The creature standing before them was no living thing. Glowing, ethereal, but with a shifting state of transparency; a spectral sort of undead was always to be feared. But this one compounded on that instinctive terror with the visage of a beast just as terrifying when alive.

Long, narrow jaws full of dagger like teeth flashed with ghostly light and massive spectral wings spread wide as the ghost dragon gave a shrieking roar that sent the fear of god running through every living thing within miles.

"RUN!"

The whole group turned to flee only to come face to face with a skeletal replica of the very thing they were attempting to escape. The bone dragon gave a rasping rattling roar, stalking slowly toward the party with deceptively stealthy steps.

"Whada we do!" Ron wailed.

The others quavered under the abyssal gaze of the undead monstrosities. Fighting back his fear, Vargas drew his sword, hand shaking. Taking the weapon, he struck the guard against his shield once, twice, three times.

The auditory assault agitated the undead dragons who recoiled, snarling. The opposite effect raced up the spines of the living, sudden courage gripping their hearts, banishing the crippling fear.

"We fight!"

The dragons shrieked at the declaration and charged. The warlocks blazed against the spectral dragon to very limited success. It was right on top of them when a bucket smashed against its head and it turned to glare at the taunting orangutan.

Vargas and Ron met the bone dragon, shields raised and swords at the ready. Lacking the weight of muscle and meat, its charge was still ferocious and knocked the two men away.

Ron slid and headbutted a support. He would later lament on the foolishness of buying a helmet he had yet to have on when a fight started, though at the time he could only wonder why the angry glowy girls kept slapping him.

While Millet tried to knock some sense into Ron, Vargas was engaging the bone dragon alone. His shield rang against the claws and fangs of the skeletal beast while his sword chipped at its limbs with negligible effect.

This was ultimately the disadvantage to fighting undead without flesh. The usual means of combat barely worked and unlike a living enemy, undead felt neither pain nor fear.

To fight a thing without flesh meant breaking it. A skeleton can only walk while its legs are whole. A good sword can break bones and Vargas' sword was very good, but a dragon's bones are not the feeble toothpicks a humans are.

Most spectral entities are almost untouchable by physical implements. It was only the magical aspect of the flame the warlocks hurled that could hurt the spectral dragon. The various objects hurled by the orangutan did nothing but divert its attention.

It wasn't that the party was at a disadvantage, they were hopelessly outclassed. Even as Ron staggered back into the fight it was clear they were only delaying the inevitable.

Dazed and barely conscious, Ron was to be the first. The bone dragon smashed hard against his defense and a wicked, disemboweling claw slammed him to the ground, pinning his sword behind his shield.

Through clouded eyes he saw the bony head looming over him, massive jaws opening wide, coming for his head and his last thought as death approached was, I hope he chokes on it.

He would never find out. In a flurry of white feathers and furious shrieks the dragon found itself assailed by a white owl. This was of little more concern to it than the paladin uselessly hacking at its clavicle.

But what the owl lacked in attack, she made up for in reconnaissance and distraction. Without warning the roof of the barn was smashed through and a man-sized stone crashed through the dragons back leg, shattering the bone.

Unable to know pain it could still sense the damage and the sudden lack of support sent it staggering to balance itself. A second hurtling object smashing through its ribs wasted the efforts, and the bone monster toppled to the ground.

"Now that's how you make an entrance!" declared the stone covered cat girl, unrolling herself from cannonball mode.

"Merle!" cried Sorsha.

Momentarily distracted, she was caught off guard when the spectral dragon launched an eviscerating attack at her unprotected back. Quicker than thought, Hermione tackled her fellow warlock out of harm's way.

The bookish warlock gave a horrid scream when the ghostly claws passed her a glancing wound and she fell to the ground writhing. Moving in to finish her it halted when a terrific blaze sprung up around it, "You stay away from her!" Sorsha roared, eyes glowing furiously.

Merle rushed to protect her friend, just as Harry winged through a hole in the roof, transforming mid stoop and dropping on the flailing bone dragon with a skull splitting crack of his staff.

The dragon slammed into the ground still flailing. Down but not out, "Guide," Harry barked, holding out his staff, "fetch!"

The stone dog happily latched onto Harry's staff with his boxy jaw. With inhuman strength Harry spun the gargoyle around and around till finally swinging him up and down on the dragon's skull like the worlds weirdest sledgehammer.

Strong as it was, the dragon's skull shattered under the terrific blow, ending its struggles and its un-life. The lull that followed was short, as those not engaged and still conscious turned to the spectral dragon, raging within a ring of vile looking fire it seemed unable to escape.

"Can someone stop that thing!" shouted Sorsha, face dripping with sweat and glowing with strange markings. "I can't keep this up much longer."

"I don't think I have anything that can kill a ghost," said Harry.

Straightening his back and raising his sword, "I do," said Vargas.

Marching stoically within inches of the ghostly dragon, the paladin stared at his enemy, and prayed, "Oh blessed father, your humble child calls to you in this our time of need. Bless us father. Shine your light upon the world that the abomination might be wiped from existence in your glorious name."

The sword in his hand began to glow and the dragon made a reflexive retreat only to find its escape cut off by abyssal fire.

"Holy SMITE!" the blade exploded with blinding light and the ghost dragon cried out.

With a single stroke the sword cleaved through both flame and dragon, shattering the bonds that tied it together, rending it to tiny shreds of spirit which dissipated like ash on the wind.

With the dragon gone Sorsha released her flames and collapsed to the ground, panting. Taking a single uneasy step, Vargas too went down, dropping to one knee while his sword kept him from face planting into the ground.

In the silence of post battle Harry took stock of his companions. Ron lay unconscious, but still breathing, his three fairies, reunited, hovering protectively over his head.

Hermione was on the ground, her outfit torn and odd-looking claw like marks showing through the holes, though strangely, yet thankfully, no blood. Merle was bent over her defensively and Hedwig sat in the rafters next to an orangutan who looked like he was about ready to fall off.

Assessment, not good.


	12. Epilogue

Encounter Random!  
Epilogue

…

The sea churned along the barren coast as waves crashed against empty beaches in a merciless, endless assault. The wind overhead howled like a rabid ice wolf, cold and crazed, deafening to the ear.

The Feral Vixen bobbed along the rolling waves under black clouds hung so low they looked like they would reach into the waters and grab her. Standing at the helm, hands firmly on the wheel, Vixen Fox wondered if such might not be the kindest fate she could expect.

"Captain," called a gray furred vermin as he scurried up to the helm.

"What is it!" she barked.

"Mistress says we should be expecting guest in short order."

The captain's scowl deepened, "We're not even close to the rendezvous point. She change it?"

The rat man shook his head, "Different guests," he said. "Not sure who but…"

"But what?"

The rat man scratched his ear nervously, "She seemed, happy" he said.

Being an observant sort, and accustomed to liars, she easily caught the contradiction in his words and his actions, "Why does that bother you?"

"Is, difficult," he hedged. "Happy she seems, but not for reasons most would be happy. Not happy because good thing has happened to her."

"She's happy because something bad happened to someone else," The Fox reasoned, "someone she doesn't like."

"Aye Captain, aye."

Which meant their guest would be in a foul mood when they arrived. And so it was, not a minute later when the dragon slammed down onto the deck of her ship, shaking the vessel in a manner that had her entire crew scrambling onto the deck, ready to fight or jump overboard as the situation dictated. Bloody rats.

It did nothing to lessen their anxieties when the dragon melted into an angry red cloud from which emerged a very angry woman in draconic red armor. Even Vixen, who recognized Altera, did not raise her hand from the hilt of her blade while the woman stomped the deck cursing at the top of her lungs.

The dragon woman had only just begun to calm when Kumbra appeared from below and set her off again, "I see things went well."

The Fox sighed as the dragon woman began screaming at the sorceress who simply stood there and smirked. She was still smirking when the dark-skinned angel woman touched down lightly, drawing stares from the crew but not so much as an acknowledgement from the screaming Altera.

"She's taking it well," the woman said, folding her wings as she glided up the steps to the helm.

"And you are?" said the captain testily to the unknown yet oddly familiar looking woman.

"No one important," she said, like she actually meant it.

Vixen didn't like it, "Well, no one important better watch her step or she may discover my sword in her guts."

Rather than appear intimidated, the woman gave a rueful smile, "You shouldn't tease me like that Captain. It's not very nice."

The Fox stared at the demented angel, then down at her draconic look alike. "Just what the hell have I gotten myself into?" she muttered darkly.

Furious screams and howling winds were the only answer she received.


	13. Epilogue 2

Encounter Random?  
Epilogue #2

…

"Mm, that smells good."

The scent of soup wafted from the tiny earthen stove and filled the small house with a wholesome aroma.

"Patience Ron, patience," said Harry, tossing in the last of his chopped-up mushrooms and stirring the pot.

"Soup Harry, soup," countered Ron.

A few chuckles came from behind him. Sorsha, looking up from her own work remarked, "I think that knock on the head has made you ridiculous."

"Is that what happened to Fred and George ya think?" Ron mused, never lifting his head from the table.

Sorsha, looking to Harry for clarification, "Couple of his brothers," then returned to her task, laying unconscious on the floor, quiet at last. "How is she?"

"She isn't moaning anymore," which was no small blessing.

What appeared a light wound had turned out to be something else. She'd been in agony since it happened and though there were no slashes, there were light marks where the claws had passed through.

None of them knew enough about such creatures to do more than name them. Vargas however had spotted something the others hadn't, the early effects of an aging curse, something the touch of a ghost was well known to produce. Ghost dragons too apparently.

The only consolation was that it wasn't likely to kill her. But there was also no telling how long it would go. She already looked like a worn, tired forty.

"How's it look out there?"

Merle tilted her head slightly from her spot near the door, "All clear," she said, gently stroking the hair of the jungle boy asleep in her lap.

Out of all of them, he and Merle were the only ones running at anywhere near normal capacity. This was why they'd holed up in the small house, despite there having been a near fatal ambush in the barn.

It turned out to be a fortuitous decision anyway, as it led them to discovering how the cargo from the wagons had disappeared. A partially scratched out teleportation circle dominating the floor, now mostly covered by Hermione and the table.

Clues continued to appear, but the picture was still too vague to see. It was maddening. Only his recent side adventure was helping him to cope. He'd found an odd sense of calm and patience during his long wait. Time would tell, he just had to wait. Wait, and watch.

So he waited, he watched, he stirred the soup, and just as it was looking to be about ready, it happened, "Someone's coming."

Everyone tensed, Mowgli stirring in Merle's lap and Vargas, half asleep against the far wall, reached for his sword. The only ones not to move were Hermione and Ron, Hermione being unable, and Ron lacking the presence of mind to do so. "I hope you made enough soup," though that didn't stop him from doing other things.

Shaking his head at his concussed friend, "Hedwig?"

Sitting on the windowsill nearest the door the owl peered into the inky night. After a short time, she ruffled her feathers, settled, then turned to her human unconcerned, relaying to his ears only what she had seen.

"What did she say?" Mowgli asked through a yawn.

Harry didn't answer. He wasn't sure how to. He'd have to go out and ask.

"Merle, Mowgli, come to the table," he said, lifting the cauldron off the fire.

"But, what about…" stared Merle, but Harry silenced her with a hand.

Collecting his staff and walking to the door, "Table," he said. "I'll be back in a minute."

True to his word, the cat girl and the jungle boy were just sitting down when Harry returned in the company of a dark swarthy dwarf, and a unicorn.

Saying not a word they went directly to the convalescing warlock. The dwarf set to work, weaving intricate spells over the wound while Harry and the unicorn looked on. The others remained silent, awestruck by the unicorn, or in Ron's case seeing nothing to get worked up about.

"Uni, assist me," the dwarf said, beckoning the unicorn.

He stepped forward and took the ball of interwoven spells on his horn. With a gentle whinny, he lowered his head cast the spell over her wound.

Hermione stirred, moaning more in confusion than pain. The light faded and Hermione settled back into a deeper sleep.

"You broke the spell?" said Sorsha in disbelief.

"No," said the dwarf. "That is beyond my power. You will need a powerful cleric to do that."

"Do you know where we can find one?" asked Harry, already knowing the answer.

"Of course," knew it, "And I will tell you. That and much more before the night is over."

There was a somber seriousness to his tone that Harry had never heard, "You mean?"

The dwarf nodded. They were of the same mind in that moment, no words were needed between them.

"First, however," he said, looking over the four native adventurer's, "before I say any more, I must know their disposition."

"You mean us?" said Merle, speaking for the group.

The dwarf nodded, "You were not tasked with this quest. The weight of its burden need not rest on your shoulders. You can expect little advantage and much hardship if you continue."

They stared at the dwarf, unsure what to think, but they were all shocked when Harry spoke, "He's right. None of you need to be involved with this. It's not your fight."

"Are… are you telling us to leave?" said Merle, nearly at the point of tears.

Choking back his own emotions, "I'm saying, there's no reason for you to stay."

Silence reigned as words sank in. Mowgli spoke first, "I stay."

"Mowgli…"

"I stay!" he repeated forcefully. "You say go, but you do not mean it in your heart. When I wished to go you said stay, give it a chance. I stayed. I do not regret this. I stay."

"You could die."

The jungle boy nodded, "I will die. All must, this is natures way. We live, we fight, we die. But since I met you, we have fought pirates, and zombies, and dragons. I need not ask if I will die, I ask only this. What do we fight next?"

The jungle boys staunch support was a surprise though perhaps it shouldn't have been. He had stayed, despite every opportunity to leave. It was touching to hear him so wholeheartedly throw in his support.

Merle touched him too, hard, right across the face. She then grabbed onto him and buried her face in chest.

"Merle, what…" but the sight of a furious tear streaked face brought him up short.

"You don't leave me alone. You promised you wouldn't. You can't take that back. I won't let you."

"Oh Merle," such a selfish little cat girl, he couldn't help but smile.

"And what of you lady warlock?" asked the dwarf, when the cat girl refused to relinquish the druid.

Sorsha sighed, "I always knew I'd wind up on one of these someday. It would be such a waste to throw away my new boy toy now that I've got him all trained."

Stifling a snicker at the blushing druid he turned to the paladin who gave a dismissive snort, "The question does not even warrant asking. I stay."

This surprised no one, but it was still heartening to hear, "You have surrounded yourself with good people druid."

"Yeah. Guess I have." And his heart swelled at the thought.

"There is much to tell," said the dwarf. "The enemy moves even as we speak. But first," he said in a lighter, chipper tone, "do I smell dinner."

Harry couldn't resist the wicked smile that stole across his face, "Why yes, won't you join us? It's mushroom soup."

The unicorn chortled as the dwarf's face fell and Harry stifled the urge to laugh, "Why must you be so mean to me druid? Why?"

...

Thanks for reading along everyone.  
We'll get back to this story eventually, but for now, enjoy a double dose of Hogwarts a History, till we hit November then strap in for this years update a day. We're getting dark this year; Grimdark.

Hope to see you then.


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